


Did He Smile His Work To See?

by Cassieno



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Angels, Bobby Singer Lives, Bobby Singer is Dean and Sam Winchester's Parent, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Charlie Bradbury & Dean Winchester Friendship, Charlie Bradbury Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Charlie and Castiel Friendship, Childhood Trauma, Dead Mary Winchester, Dean needs a job, Fallen Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Fluff and Angst, Human Castiel (Supernatural), John Winchester Being an Asshole, John Winchester Lives, M/M, Orphan Castiel (Supernatural), Parental Bobby Singer, Past Drug Use, Prostitution Offer, Slow Burn, alternative universe, money problems, they stay in motels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-02-22 23:10:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 57,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23001910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassieno/pseuds/Cassieno
Summary: This is the story of an angel becoming human without memory of his previous life.He learns what it means to love someone so absolute that you would give them the world. And slowly Castiel will come to understand, yet once again, what led him to give up his grace, to become part of humanity.But fate strikes and God seems to have a different plan. Castiel will have to choose where to put his faith: Is it with the heavens or with Dean Winchester?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 26
Kudos: 42
Collections: The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	1. Prologue

_Tiger! tiger! burning bright_

_In the forests of the night;_

_What immortal hand or eye_

_Framed thy fearful symmetry?_

_In what distant deeps or skies_

_Burned that fire within thine eyes?_

_On what wings dared he aspire?_

_What the hand dared seize the fire?_

_When the stars threw down their spears_

_And water heaven with their tears,_

_Did he smile his work to see?_

_Did he who made the lamb make thee?_

**_PROLOGUE_ **

**A small town in Kansas, 2008**

Two bright flashes of light rushed trough the corridors of the house. The entirety of the narrow street lit up, for not much longer than a mere second, before the night took over again. Inside the house a little boy fell on his knees, a round scar right above where his heart was. But his breaths were calm and steady.

In one hand he held the sharp side of an angel blade, offering its handle to the man standing above him. Though he held his head high, there was a fleeting flash of fear in his bright blue eyes.

„If you have to kill me,“ the boy said, he was barley ten and his voice wasn’t that of a child. „Don‘t let me suffer. I just have one last wish.“

The man took the blade from his hand, hesitant but steady. His name was Bobby Singer and he wasa hunter. Someone needed help? He helped them. Someone asked for advise? He gave it to them. In this case someone had asked him to kill five angels - he couldn’t ignore this case. For a while now he knew of their existence, though he wasn‘t very fond of them.

„Why don‘t you just vanish out of here like your friend there?“ He pointed the tip of the weapon to a limb body, lying behind the boy.

„I want this all to end. Today.“ Bobby‘s eyebrows furrowed. Angels were known to be heroic warriors that obeyed orders without questioning them. They never surrendered. „Will you hear my wish?“

This caught his interest and Singer nodded with a clenched jaw. He pointed the tip of the blade under the angel‘s chin. „Make it quick.“

„Take my grace,“

„What?“ He staggered.

„so I‘ll become human.“

„You‘re insane.“

„I‘m done.“ The angel spat out. He got loud and it took the hunter aback. „With all of this.“ He gestured around. One hand reached inside his jacket pocket but his movements were interrupted as the sharp blade slightly cut into his skin. Bobby had regained his focus.

„Slowly.“ He advised as the angel gently pulled his hands up in the air. In one hand he held a small, empty bottle. He could feel the cold steel moving away from his neck, only enough to not hurt him anymore.

„Cut my throat, not much. A cut a human would survive. Hold this against it and my grace will be yours.“

„And you‘ll be human?“ The angel nodded. „You‘ll remember this?“

„Nothing. I will remember nothing.“

„And why should I do this?“

The boy furrowed his brows. To him it was obvious. „I saved you life.“ His eyes wandered over his shoulder. „Now I‘m asking you to spare mine.“

Bobby paused to think, then let the blade sink. He sighed. „What do I tell the other hunters?“

„That I escaped. And by a miracle the vessel survived.“

„Is he alive? The boy?“

The angels glance fell down, he shook his head. „They wouldn’t let me save him. And I tried. You have to believe me.“

And for a reason even unknown to himself Bobby did - believe him, that is.


	2. Tea

_**CHAPTER ONE** _

_**Tea** _

**Yangtou Shan, a mountain north of Baoji in China, 2737 BC**

Castiel sat down under an orange tree. The grass was wet between his toes, the morning dew was not yet burned away by the sun‘s light. He eyed his own feet, moved every single toe as he wondered how he did it. He liked this paradox and smiled to himself.

Everyone knows how to move their toes, but no one can actually explain. Even angels couldn‘t and Castiel liked the mystery. Why so strangely simple things were so wonderfully complicated when you thought about them for too long.

He crossed his legs and sat up straight when he saw Shennong entering the garden. The man had long grey hair and a beard that he‘d always shave on the sides. He looked around the garden with a warm smile on his lips. He saw the other young men running around in the sun, they used his new farming tools to loosen the soil.

The old man sat down in the grass and nodded towards Castiel. He bowed his head and got to his feet. He had been in this garden for a year now, and even though nobody knew it, today was his last day there, too.

Calmly he walked into the small wooden house. Where the shadows fell, the floor boards were cold. Castiel sensed goose bumps appearing on his arm, but the feeling of a cold rush on a hot day, that wasdescribed as so very satisfactory, was missed. Castiel couldn’t feel physical sensations, even though he tried to imagine what _coldness_ meant, or _heat_.

He went towards the fire place and set up water to boil. He liked the sound of water when poured inside a pot. As he stood so close to the fire he could see his goose bumps falling away again. He smiled at the small hairs on his arms and remembered when humans were not more than little apes, with fur like any other animal.

He liked those apes very much.

As he waited for the water to start bubbling he leaned against the walls. The cabin had no windows (though small rays of sunshine broke trough the cracks in the walls), only a hole in the ceiling for the smoke to escape trough. Outside of it he could see the birds in the sky, flying around in the winds. Humans envied them and their wings, Castiel on the other hand didn’t fully understand their excitement.

The kettle started to hiss and Castiel wrapped an old cloth around his hand. To him the heat of the kettle didn‘t mean any harm. But he wouldn’t want to hurt his vessel, if he could avoid it. (Not that heaven cared - they only cared about the mission Castiel was there to accomplish. It was the angel‘s own moral compass that led him to his actions.)

Carefully he poured the boiling water into a cup made of clay. It was the first thing Castiel had made out of clay and it held up perfectly for nearly a year now.

With the cup between his hands he went outside again. He liked the sunrays on his skin. He could not feel the comfortable warmth of them but he felt as if they we‘re hugging his skin ever so slightly. They were so close to him, yet so far away.

He went toward Shennong and gave him the cup of hot water. Soon the story will end, Castiel thought as he sat back down under the same orange tree.

The master smiled as he let the steam of the cup cover his face. Gently he put it down in front of him and began to take out various herbs from his pocket. He began to chew on one of them at a time and Castiel smiled.

He didn’t know much about the plan (Or God`s plan as they called it). He had never been taught to ask questions regarding his missions.

But he knew enough about this story, he thought and smiled.

With a deep exhale he blowed out air into the fine leaves of the tree above him. They started rustling as three or four of them began to slowly fall down from the crown.

Castiel watched with playful awe as one of the leaves danced trough the wind. Guided by his breath it found itself inside the cup of hot water.

Shennong only noticed a few minutes later, when he was finished with his study and wanted to wash down the dry herbs with the water.

He looked inside the cup and then back to Castiel, who had not taken his eyes off of him.

„Should I boil the water once more?“, he asked but Shennong shook his head.

Carefully he took a sip and his face lit up. And so did Castiel‘s, but with a faint undertone of melancholy. The feeling you get when something so beautiful happens that you can‘T help yourself but be happy, but with the same thought of utter happiness comes the realization that this moment, too, will soon have passed.

As the other men gathered around and tasted the colorful water inside the cup, Castiel snuck away.

He looked at the surrounding mountains one more time. Even from far away you could see the little goats on the cliffs, climbing up and down.

He wanted to rest there for a while longer but heaven would not let him stay. The task he was given, for other angels, would’ve been done within an hour. If he would be gone for even more days they would come to look for him. (It was to Castiel‘s favor, that in heaven time went by differently. When everyone lived for eternity a human year felt like a day)

So he returned to heaven, and the young man, that had offered his body a year ago, woke up in the same place he fell asleep.

He would be a witness for how Shennong would start his true herbal studies, explore the healing properties of tea and lead medicine and agriculture to their new beginnings.

Castiel promised himself that he would check back in a few decades, but he forgot the time.

**Another small town in Kansas, 2008**

„What‘s his name again, you said?“ A woman whispered. Her voice was lovely and so calm, like the sun after a thunderstorm, breaking trough the clouds. She wore a long back robe and a black gown covered her head. A small silber cross dangled from her necklace. She was a nun.

„Castiel.“ Bobby whispered. They stood in the hallway behind the ajar door as the small boy sat at the kitchen table. His feet dangled above the ground.

„And his last name?“

„I don‘t think angels have last names.“ He said in a snippy tone and earned a stern look from the nun in front of him.

„Well, I will have to tell the other nuns something.“, she said. „What was the boys family name then?“

„Novak. But Jody, no one can know he‘s here.“ He grabbed her arm, not in a threatening way. Bobby Singer could be a very gentle man. „You understand that right?“

Jody gave him a warm smile and nodded. „Of course, Bobby. After all, I owe you my life. And the little boy-“ She looked over her shoulder and peaked trough the crack: Castiel still sat there, a hot cup of tea clutched between his hands. „Well, he‘s just a boy. He deserves to have a home.“

Bobby sighed and looked down. This was not how he normally handled supernatural beings. Brining them to a covenant for them to adopt. But what other options did he have?

„Yes, he does. Let‘s just hope he really is just a boy.“

„Why would he lie?“

„I don’t know.“

„Then stop assuming.“ She gave him a nudge. „You said he warded himself before you turned him human?“ She waited for Bobby to nod and continued. „Than everything‘s alright.“ But she could see the distrust in his eyes, and laid her hand softly on his shoulder. She felt the old fabric under her palm, the dirt.

„You‘re doing the right thing.“ She spoke, and as Bobby still refused to look up she gently cupped his cheek in her hand. Her smile could ease anyone‘s mind. „I‘ll be okay, Bobby. I‘ll keep you updated on him.“ She let her hand run down to his arm, rubbing it gently. „Do you want to stay here tonight? We got a lot of spare rooms, you know.“ She chuckled.

Bobby had just opened his mouth as his phone rang. „Work doesn’t sleep.“ He said instead. „I better get back home before sunrise.“

„You do what you have to.“ Jody smiled, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. „You better get that.“

Bobby took the phone from his pocket and looked at the caller, then back up at Jody. „I‘ll call you.“ he promised, and answered the call.

„I know you will.“ And they parted ways.

Jody made her way back into the kitchen and sat down across from Castiel. The kitchen was neither large nor small. The floor, walls and counters were covered with dark wood. The rather big round table they were sitting on was made out of the same material. 

Castiel traced the patterns on it with his fingers.

„Do you like the tea?“ Jody asked.

„Mhm.“ Castiel nodded, not looking up. „I think... I like orange.“

„You think?“ Again he nodded.

„I don‘t think I drank it before.“

„Well, you can have however much you want, now.“ She gently put her hand above Castiel‘s and he stopped his movements to look up. He had golden locks, and bright blue eyes.

„Do you remember anything?“ Jody asked, her eyes filled with sympathy whereas Castiel‘s face was filled with confusion and sadness. „From tonight? Or even before that?“

Castiel shook his head frantically and pulled away his hand from Jody‘s. Fast he jerked up his feet onto the chair and rested his head between his knees. Jody sighed and got up.

„I‘m sorry.“ She said and softly brushed over his back. „You don’t have to tell me.“

Castiel looked up, there were tears brimming in his eyes. With her fingers Jody slowly pushed away the locks that fell into his face, with a little smile on her lips. She brushed away the tears as they fell down his cheek.

The boy leaped out of his chair and into her arms. She couldn’t even react in time as his arms were already tightly wrapped around her waist. He pressed his face against her belly and began to weep.

„Bl- blood.“ He stuttered under his breath. „Ev- everywhere.“

And Jody gently shushed him, stroking his hair with one hand as she pulled him closer with the other one. When his cries fell away she got down on her knees. „I‘ll bring you to bed now.“ Castiel nodded and they made their way upstairs.

The convent was big and empty. The halls were broad and made of stone. The building was very old but during the day the nuns made the cold hallways to homes. There was never a quiet second in the house and sunshine stranded trough every window.

Castiel‘s new room was under the roof, two round windows gave him a view into the garden.

„This is your new bed, Cassie.“ He smiled at Jody’s words and nodded.

„Stay with me?“ He asked. And, of course, Jody stayed with him.

She gave him one of her gowns to sleep in and his little body was completely eaten up by it, but Castiel liked how it flowed when he moved his arms, like leaves in the breeze.

She saw that the boy wore a golden necklace with a jeweled crucifix pendant. His family must have been religious, too.

Careful Jody tucked him in and read him from the Bible (She knew it by heart, and simplified the sentences for a child to understand).

She thought it was fitting.


	3. Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A single rose can be my garden,  
> A single friend, my world
> 
> \- Leo Buscaglia

_**CHAPTER TWO** _

_**The Garden** _

**The Island Scheria in Greek, roughly 1140 BC**

Castiel watched the rose-bush dancing with the movements of the salty summer breeze. He looked trough the bronzen gates. The evening sun glistened from above and the metal reflected her beams like liquid gold.

Far away he saw the port. Many ships had come and went that day but one one in particular struck Castiel with interest. Interest and an aching heart. He looked around himself and forced a smile unto his lips.

He had once heard a woman say that every fleeting minute passes finer with a fair smile on your lips. He could not yet agree or disagree but he must admit that the corners of his lips began to tremble slightly.

He turned in circles, arms far apart and let his smile widen. The grass beneath his feet was green. Every bush and every flower would bloom all year around and every tree would bear its fruits for everyone to get.

It was not for the presence of an heavenly being passing trough the garden that made it so special and important. It was the garden itself.

It was the Garden. Or at least it had been a part of it many eons ago. Eden had not been destroyed when the apple had been eaten, nor was it locked away by God themselves.

Eden was simply scattered around.

On this Island a rather great chunk of it had survived the years and Castiel stood in the midsts of it. Humanity for many years will read the Bible wrong, he knew. They would never question how long Eden really existed before Eve ate the apple.

It had been a few thousand years, maybe even more, before the human would begin to differ between good and evil, right and wrong, yin and yang. Dualism would take Pantheism‘s place long after the earth had been populated. But Castiel would not want to think about the past just now, maybe some other time, he thought.

In the present it was that he felt at home, outside of heaven, far away from other angels but still very close to their quests for him.

He looked at his brown, skinny arms and the freckles that were all over his skin. He did not know the name of the woman who had offered him her body as a vessel, and he did not want to poke at her peaceful mind to find out.

She, or rather her mind (which is truly the most important thing any human has), was taken care of.

Gently tucked away inside a corner of Castiel‘s divinity she sprang into the calm ocean, naked and with the woman she loved.

They giggled and Castiel decided to leave her be.

He looked down on himself. Her hair was long and curly, it smelled like flowers. The white dress fit her body charmingly, wrapping itself around her legs when she spun. She had asked Castiel to care for her skin every day, with expensive oils and herbs.

Of course Castiel did not understand the necessity of this but he obeyed gladly.

He thought the woman smelled just as good as the flowers and he treated her body with the kind of admiration she deserved.

King Alcinous entered the Garden. The bronze gates and the golden house that were build around this part of Eden were material things, that belonged to the king. He had build his residence around Eden.

Castiel didn‘t understand why he would want to keep a piece of paradise only for himself to enjoy.

Alcinous approached Castiel. „How is the garden?“ He asked, the rhetorical smile already on his lips.

„Fabulous.“ Castiel answered. The woman’s voice was gentle, like the song of a small but colorful bird. The King was already on his way back inside as Castiel stopped him.

„My King,“ he ran behind him until Alcinous stopped. „May I speak?“

Castiel had studied the humans of the time before he occupied this vessel. He knew how to speak to whome in which ever way. This, too, distinguished him from other angels.

The King nodded and Castiel proceeded.

„I know I‘m nothing more than a mere gardener, sir, my King. But these days a man will want to pass trough your island. His name will be Odysseus. You will find he is a good man. And you will eventually let him pass, I know of it. I‘m merely asking you to hear him out and what he has to say. It will surprise you.“

The king rose and eyebrow and stepped down from the entrance again, back into the garden. He came very close and Castiel could not conclude what was happening.

Then with a sudden swung he felt a sting across his cheek, where the king had slapped him. „You are right. You are nothing but a mere gardener. Do not tell me how to rule if you want to see the suns again.“ And he left.

When the gates closed behind him Castiel immediately checked back into the corner of his mind, where the woman rested. He saw her at the shore, lying in the sun and the sand stuck to her still wet skin. Her peace had not been disturbed.

He exhaled with relief. She was fine and had not noticed a thing.

But even then Castiel became uncomfortable in her skin. She did not deserve the reputation she now had and Castiel hoped with every fiber of his being that it would not cause her any more trouble.

That day he left her body and she woke up beneath the roses as if she had only been asleep for a few hours. He hoped the King would let Odysseus pass. His story was of great importance.

Other angels would have forced the king to obey their biddings but Castiel preferred the indirect route. It gave him the chance to see the story unfold from up close.

He told himself he would check back on the girl soon.

**The convent in Kansas, 2011**

The young boy ran trough the front yard an up the stairs to big doors of the convent. His backpack jumped up and down as it was lazily swung over only one shoulder. The day was hot and the sun burned on his head.

His hair seemed darker than it did three years ago, a deep golden brown and his curls started to straighten out. With both hands he grabbed the warm door knob and laid all his weight into opening the grand entrance. For a young boy these doors were impossible to upon without a little force.

The stoned hallways were cold, even the air inside seemed pure and fresh. He could feel the slight summer breezes squeezing trough the cracks in the walls.

Castiel was happy winter was over, he liked the sun more than the cold, even though he loved both. (

The boy ran towards the kitchen, laughing and giggling as a few nuns jumped back in their paths, surprised and taken aback by the Castiel running in front of their feet.

Normally he would greet them all, he liked them all very much, but today he knew exactly where he wanted to go. He rushed towards the kitchen and there opened the small door that lead to the back yard. It was easier to open then the other door.

Outside he saw Jody kneeling in the grass and he called her name. His voice was lower than three years ago. Jody looked up, her eyes glistened in the sun yet somehow her smile was even brighter.

„Castiel!“ She waved from far away, telling him to come to her.

The boy squealed with excitement and let his backpack drop down. He ran trough the garden, like the wind, he was so fast.

Jody barley had time to stand up before he rushed into her, arms around her waist as he squeezed her tightly. He was taller now than he was three years ago, and stronger.

She regained her stance, taking a step or two backwards so she would not fall. She laughed and hugged him back, with her hand she rustled trough his fluffy hair.

„Good day to you, too, my knight.“ She said jokingly and rose her gown up a bit to drop a curtsey. Castiel giggled and bowed his head, a hand above his heart.

„My Queen.“ He said but could not hold back his laughter. So he just stood up straight and smiled widely before he told her. „I got in.“ He bounced on the tip of his toes, left and right like a spring.

Jody‘s mouth opened wide and she gasped. „Into the wrestling team?“ She asked, both her hands on Castiel‘s shoulder as she looked him into his eyes. They had stayed as blue as they were three years ago.

He nodded as he was too thrilled to speak more. „Oh my God!“ Jody exclaimed and pulled his body closer there again. With her strength she pulled him off the ground and spun in circles with him in her arms.

Her gown flowed with breeze and Castiel felt at home right then and there. In her arms, in this garden.

Simply put he felt pure happiness.

She put him down again and let out a breath. „I‘m really happy for you, Castiel. How was school today n general?“

„It was okay. We read something about Greek Mythology today, that was interesting. And there‘s a new student! Her name is Charlie, she seems cool.“ Jody nodded.

„Are you gonna help with the garden?“ She pointed towards the small fields beside her. They grew tomatoes, cucumbers and chillies. They had apple and plum trees and many more flowers and herbs.

„What can I do?“ He asked and Jody reached down to the ground and gave him the little basket that stood there.

„Be so good and get us some tomato’s from the greenhouse, three or four eggs from the hens, depending on how big they are. And water the plants in the greenhouse when you‘re finished. Then you can do you homework.“ Jody pinched his cheek and Castiel groaned. He wasn‘t much into doing homework.

„How are our roses?“ He asked looking at the small bush behind Jody and she smiled. They had planted them together a few months ago and Castiel had checked on them nearly every day ever since. Jody believed he had a green thumb because roses had never grown so beautifully as they did when Castiel tended them.

„They‘re doing great. I watered them earlier today.“ Castiel was ready to do his tasks when Jody asked one more thing. „How was your therapy session?“ She asked gently and calm, only pure and good intentions at heart.

She noticed how his hand went to his necklace (the same one he already wore three years ago, he couldn‘t think of a day where Castiel had not worn it), mindlessly and unintentional. But he faintly smiled and told her that it had been a nice talk.

And Jody let him do this tasks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I‘m so thankful for everyone who is reading this! It really does mean a lot to me, and sharing my writing was never easy for me.  
> I hope everyone enjoys this story!


	4. Dance - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everthing is broken up,  
> And dances
> 
> \- Jim Morrison

_**CHAPTER THREE - PART ONE** _

_**Dance** _

**A small apartment in Buenos Aires, roughly 1897**

It was a rather warm night in August and Castiel didn‘t see any goosebumps on his vessel‘s skin. There was no chimney in the narrow room and only a few candles to give up light. But it didn’t feel dark, Castiel was unsure how to explain it.

There were five people with him, all had a smile on their face and a bottle of liquor in their hands. They told Castiel that it was their best one, a dark brown liquid, but to him it didn‘t taste like anything.

„So, Nicolás, are you ready to dance?“ A woman asked as she slowly walked up to him.

It was the first time Castiel had truly stood against orders, and all just to be on earth. The angels and heaven wouldn‘t want him to get this close to humanity, but he couldn‘t resist the urge to come and visit them (no further intentions behind his actions. No orders, no tests and no obligations to his superiors. If angels had anything like free time, Castiel would spend his on earth)

And because he started to feel bad for lying to the humans around him (pretending to be the person he was possessions at the time), he decided to tell them who he really was: an angel. But one with a good heart, he assured them.

They had all laughed in disbelieve, telling him that there were only good angels. He thought about telling them the whole truth, that angels despised humanity and would kill all of them without thinking twice. But he decided not to argue their belief.

They had asked for proof of his divinity. Humans always needed proof. The angel had learned over the years, that they were right to do so. Even he himself found the need of proof to be rather important. He often wondered what would happen if he’d ask heaven for proof that all the orders were really coming from above.

So instead of telling them a story about faith and God, he decided to just show them, that he was, indeed, an angel. (Castiel had never done it before, not since humanity had evolved to a more technology centered life form anyway. And he was scared about their reaction. What if they’d run away? He did not want to scare them.)

In the end he showed them the shadows of his wings and he cured one of them of his beginning muscle failure (Castiel didn‘t even need to lay a hand on him. The bright light emerged from his palm and the young man could feel the pain ease in his fibers - a pain he hadn‘t even noticed before.)

Instead of running away they had all laughed and invited him to stay.

Castiel had rarely ever felt so welcomed. (And they had welcomed him. Not his vessel, not the person he was pretending to be: Really him. Was this acceptance?)

„Please, call me Castiel. Nicolás is letting me dance.“ Castiel smiled. He had explained to them how possession worked and that he would let Nicolás, their friend, step forward whenever he wanted to. „He let‘s me be in charge for the dance.“

The woman shook her head.

„No, no.“ She laughed „I‘m in charge.“ She patted his cheek and Castiel looked in her eyes.

He could feel Nicolás‘ longing to kiss her, he really loved this woman. But Castiel wouldn‘t act on the other man‘s emotions. Especially then when he himself could not understand the emotion. He had never loved someone, he thought. Not like this anyway.

Around the room stood four man other on their instruments. A violin, a flute, a piano and a guitar. The man on the piano began to speak. „My lady, gentlemen, and cosmic entity. I welcome you to the very first performance of the El Entrerriano, a tango structured in three parts.“

The man on the violin rolled his eyes. His name was Ernesto. „Rosendo,“ he said „don‘ talk so high about yourself. It‘s just the six of us, not a theatre full of people.“

„It will be after I publish it tomorrow.“ Rosendo smiled. „The whole Plazo full to hear my tango.“

Vincent, the man with the flute, chuckled. „I hope you‘re right, brother. I really do-„

„You men talk too much.“ The woman said and she laid one hand on Castiel‘s neck, the other on his lower back. „Start playing so I can start teaching this angel how to dance.“

And they did as she asked. The music wasn‘t too fast, or too rushed. Castiel really liked the melody, the simple ups and downs and all the instruments brining the sound together.

Desperately he tried to follow her instructions as to where he should put his feet and when he had to turn and spin but he failed almost every time. The others laughed but they were not being mean, they simply enjoyed how hard he tried. They were happy to see him dance and the angel didn’t detect any ill intentions.

Castiel felt frustration (stepping on his own feet, missing the tact, not placing his hands right) but when he felt that he was not being judged - it was a relief and his happiness fled trough. Dancing made him feel free, even then when it didn‘t work out perfectly. He wondered why angels never danced (Maybe because they did not have the good music)

Inside his head Nicolás asked for permission to step forward and Castiel of course allowed him to. The other humans were excited to ask how it felt and Nicolás described to them the feeling: He felt warmth from the inside, there was no hurt nor pain but it felt strange, even when it was the good kind of strange.

„He asked me if I could dance for him.“ he spoke. „I think he wants to know how it feels, when you know the dance by heart.“ He laughed and the woman took his hand again.

The music began to play again and they started to dance a slow tango.

Their feet were like lovely lullabies, dancing around each other, so close to touching yet so precisely calculated far away. And Castiel felt free in this other man‘s shoes, he felt like all his worries washed away as he moved and spun around with joy.

Their dancing was heavenly (Even to Castiel it felt like home).

And so intimate as well. Even their breaths started to align.

When they were finished Nicolás stepped back and let Castiel take charge again.

„What is this dance called? How old is it? Where is it from? I need to know.“ The words came out like a waterfall.

The man on the piano smiled. „It‘s called Tango.“ He said. „It‘s from our ancestors, from Africa. Before my parents died, and I became an orphan, I remember, they always told me about my grandmother and how she danced. It is similar to this.“ He softly smiled. „It reminds me of my home. It reminds me of the people I love.“

If Castiel hadn‘t forgot to check back with them after he left he would‘ve known that the Tango would turn out to be one of the most popular dances to ever exist.

It started there this night. Really started, anyway. And he was a part of that.

He just doesn‘t know it.

**The convent in Kansas, 2013**

Jody and Castiel were the last ones to walk out of the prayer room that morning, the other nuns had already left a few minutes before. The room was build like a small chapel: a few wooden benches, with kneelers attached to them, the altar was simple with a few touches of gold around the frames of the paintings.

Castiel had come to like the prayer room. It was quiet, nicely decorated (He liked gold very much) and trough the colorful windows the light fell placid onto the cold stone floor. Every touch felt very personal to him and it was the place where he would go to find tranquility.

Jody and him had moved a few things about and cleaned some of the surfaces (Castiel had been with them for five years now, and he had learned to help wherever he could).

„Are you excited about the school dance?“ Jody smiled, Castiel had never seen her unhappy, though as he came of age he suspected that Jody probably just never showed her sadness to him, rather than her actually never being sad. He made a mental note to ask her about it someday and tell her that she must not hide anything from him.

„I am.“ Castiel locked the door as they left the room. „Very much so, actually. Charlie will be here around four, I think.“

„I‘m glad you two have found each other.“ Jody brushed over his shoulder. „I remember you telling me about her when she first got to your school. You wouldn‘t keep quiet about that girl after that.“ She laughed and Castiel looked down, a hint of shame on his cheeks. The kind of shame that you felt when you‘re 15 and someone talks about the things you did when you were 13.

Jody noticed how his stance shifted uncomfortably and she decided to change the topic a bit. „You still have not told me why she isn‘t going there with her girlfriend tonight. I thought those two were sweet.“

„Wait, but you never met her girlfriend.“ Castiel raised an eyebrow.

„Do you really think I don‘t notice, when two girls start to throw stones at your window so you‘ll come down?“ Castiel blushed a little but smiled.

„I‘m not as smart, as I think I am, huh?“

„Oh no, it‘s not that.“ Jody assured. „It‘s just that I‘m a lot smarter, than _you_ think _I_ am.“

„Fair point.“ Castiel chuckled and sighed, reminded of the original question. „They broke up. When she told Charlie that she had to move with her parents they decided to break up. It‘s been two months or so, though.“

Jody nodded and started to walk down the hallway. „I believe you‘ve done all your duties for today. Rest a bit before the night starts.“ Castiel couldn’t see it but she smiled widely as she said it.

Jody did not resemble Castiel, when she was his age, not even in the slightest.

 _He really still is an angel_ , she thought, _as much as humanly possible, anyway._

When she was his age, a night out would have meant a lot of beer and boys. But she knew Castiel was not like her, so she rarely ever worried about what he did. He was a very responsible teenager.

Castiel watched her walk away before he opened the doors to the chapel again. He tried to close them quietly behind him, but they squeaked like every other thing inside the convent. (Especially the stairs - it was a horror show to try and sneak into the house)

His feet dragged him to the bench that stood in the very fist row. There was only one, the cushions that normally covered the wood had fallen off a few years ago and had never been replaced.

The morning sun fell onto him in a warm, brick stone red, after the rays had wandered trough the colored glass.

Not many 15 year-olds had a favorite bench in their favorite chapel but nobody thought Castiel was like any other 15 year-old. He dropped a courtesy and sat down in the sun. Closing his eyes and taking deep breaths, the sun wasn‘t going to be this gentle for much longer. The heat of the summer could be diminishing, unless you bathed it in during the morning hours.

Castiel sighed and opened his eyes. His gaze wandered to the cross right in front of him. It showed the crucifixion of Christ, his starved body and the ribs pressing trough his skin. The statue was porcelain and it lit up when the sunrays dropped on it.

Jody had never liked it much. She preferred the simple, wooden crosses that symbolized the crucifixion instead of showing it. But Castiel disagreed. There laid something familiar in the picture of Christ, as if he had seen something like it before.

And Castiel had heard the stories, those from the Bible and those which were too gruesome to have made it in (Though Jody only ever taught him about those that stood in the Bible. Castiel had taught himself the others on a particularly stormy day during which he was told to clean up the old library. He had stumbled upon some old stories and had lost himself in them).

Seeing how brutal the story of Christ really was, Castiel thought it was only fair to make people look at it, to look at what they had done so no one woudl forget why they should act only on their good intentions.

He could feel the anger bubbling inside of him, and he had held his breath.

He closed his eyes once more, a deep exhale followed, feeling the warmth of the sun. He would never get used to it. Sometimes he wondered why it was, that every time he sat in it, it felt like it was his first time ever feeling warmth.

But he didn‘t complain. It had always felt good.

With one hand he grabbed the bench he was sitting down on, to keep his stance, as he dropped on his knees, with the other one he fumbled with the necklace around his neck and pulled the pendant out from under his shirt.

The sunlight danced on the gold, and on the small jewels. There was a faint smile on his lips that rapidly dropped dead again, like a delicate flower you accidentally touched too harshly.

Days like these, with a school dance approaching, were hard for Castiel.

He let the pendant go for a second, gestured the cross above his torso and mumbled „In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and if the Holy Ghost. Amen.“ Then he took the cross between his fists and put his lips against them. He started to feel his knees aching.

He always prayed silently. And about anything that came to mind. He never asked for things, Jody taught him to be selfless when speaking to God. (She always felt a little weird when teaching Castiel about religion. But he was so interested in it. She never asked him to tell her why that was, but she had told Bobby. You know, just in case)

Castiel‘s thoughts were all over the place. He rambled on and on about the dance. How he wished that he could be like all the other kids, whose parents sat on the chairs at the side and watched their children dancing.

He thought about how these dreams, of his parents sitting there and clapping, were unfair to Jody and all the other nuns.

After all they were his family. Jody had always been like a mother to him, from day one (He still couldn‘t remember anything from before he was ten years old).

The only thing that was left of the boy he was before that night: The necklace.

And he thought about how weird it was, that he still missed his parents, when he couldn‘t even remember them. And he wasn‘t even sure if he missed them, or if he just thought that he had to miss them. Because that was what people did when their parents died: They missed them, right?

The doctors told him it was the shock. Pushing a traumatized event so far back that you can’t remember a thing. But Castiel remembered the night, he remembered all the blood and the lights. He just couldn‘t make sense of it, or of anything that came before, as if it was a completely different life.

He had talked about that to Jody one day, who then brushed over his hair and hummed a sweet melody. She helped him, saying that things were alright now and they would only get better. Castiel wished he could put his trust into God‘s plan the way that Jody was bale to.

She was so sure, no, it even was like she _knew_ \- that everything would turn out okay. And it reassured the people around her.

 _Faith is letting go_ , she told him, _Not holding on._

Castiel stopped praying. His thoughts just confused him further and he didn‘t want to spoil his day by thinking about The Day.

He decided to take another nap, it was still early in the morning and he had enough time to get ready for the dance.


	5. Dance - Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is broken up,  
> And dances
> 
> -Jim Morrison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like the events of this chapter. But I feel like my writing is a bit off. I hope everyone enjoys reading anyway :)

_**CHAPTER THREE** _

_**Dance - Part Two** _

**The same evening at the gymnasium, 2013**

Charlie had been over to the convent right on time. Castiel was slightly taken aback (Seeing that every time they met he would tell her to come 15 minutes early, so that she would really be on time), when he heard the pebbles being thrown against the window.

She was already wearing her fluffy black dress, with a red underskirt, gesturing widely for him to come downstairs. Castiel had moved away from the window to grab his jacket. He chuckled to himself. It was paradox how Charlie could look so good and confident, while being nothing more than a big nervous bouncy ball inside.

While he himself wore a simple white button up and black pants.

They left on their bikes and Charlie had nearly crashed three times. Two of which were because of her ongoing rants about the dance, the other one because of the skirt of her dress.

They arrived outside of school, looking up at the huge building like they had never seen it before. It was weird. Seeing this place while the sun was setting.

Charlie started to fumble with her dress, jumping from one foot to the other. „Okay, okay, okay, oka-okay, kay.“ She put her small backpack down in front of her and pulled out a pair of wine red heels. When she put them on she laid one hand onto Castiel‘s shoulder to keep her balance.

As soon as they were on she quickly stood up, with her head high. „Let‘s do this.“ she swung the bag over her shoulder with a lot of confidence and exhaled.

Without looking at Castiel she opened her hand, fingers all wide apart, and he took it in his. „Just try to _relax_ “, he said, softly squeezing it, as they were walking up the stairs. Charlie just nodded but deep inside she wanted to punch him for telling her to calm down.

The halls of the school were empty and dark. The building felt abounded and it made Castiel‘s thoughts rush trough his head even faster. He didn‘t much care about the dance itself. If it were up to him he wouldn’t have participated in the competition in the first place.

But Charlie had trained for it for so long. Her and her girlfriend wanted to go on that floor and put everyone into awe. Now that they had broken up she at least wanted to go out there for herself. And Castiel, who before training had never danced a day in his life, promised her that he wouldn‘t let her do it alone.

In his mind that meant cheering her on when she trained and maybe help her find a new partner. In her mind it meant that Castiel was her new partner. The first time he came along when she trained the steps, she just took his hand and dragged him on the floor with herself. He had looked like a deer staring down at the really bright lights of an upcoming truck.

But he couldn‘t tell her no, very few people could know Charlie and disagree with her.

As they moved along they saw the brighter, and more colorful, lights coming up at the end of the seemingly endless hallway. Without noticing it Charlie started to squeeze Castiel‘s hand harder, a little bit harder than the boy would‘ve expected from such a delicate, small girl.

They opened the big doors into the halls and were greeted by balloons, banners, lights, a few people already standing in groups and laughing. Some moms poured themselves something into their drinks.

Charlie nearly fainted „I can‘t do this. No. Cassie, let‘s go.“ She spun around and the skirt of her dress flew around with the movement. Castiel still held her hand and pulled her back to himself.

„Charlie we trained for this. Going now is just stupid, I think. Let‘s just do this and show them all how powerful you are. Come on.“ He gestured her to follow him and he made his way over to a group of friends.

It didn‘t take long after that for the actual competition to start. One of the parents announced that those who were participating should come to the dance floor.

Thankfully, they didn‘t go first. But they went last. Which was in a sense even worse.

They looked at all the pairs in front of them. Some were dancing Waltz, two were dancing Samba and one even tried to dance a simple Tango (Two boys, and it was obvious they were just participating for the fun of it. Or rather to make fun of it. They were surprisingly good though.)

Then Bradbury and Novak were called to the floor. Charlie in her wonderful high heels, the fluffy dress wrapping itself around her body. Her fiery hair (she dyed it a deep red) was swung into a high updo and the color matched those of her lips. Elegantly she held out her hand and a very slow music began to play.

As if they were in an old romance movie, Castiel took her hand. He started to make wide steps around her, as she made little, tippy steps, turning into the same directions he did.

Then he pulled her body close and placed his hand on her lower back. He could see the worry in her hazel eyes, they were golden like a retriever, Castiel loved them. He smiled softly, knowing what would come next.

He could feel her muscles starting to relax under his hands.

Then the music changed. The crow looked confused, they had expected the classical piece to go on.

Instead _Jailhouse Rock by Elvis_ started to blast trough the speakers. And what started as a Waltz became a Jive.

Charlie, looking like a 50s biker girl who could kill you if she really cared enough, moved away from Castiel with played disgust written on her face. She made many fast and small steps away from him while he acted confused, looking around the hall as if he tried to figure out _why_ the music changed.

Then he just shrugged and moved towards her again.

They didn‘t take their hands this time. Charlie took the skirt in her hand instead and started to flick up her legs. Castiel ran around her to focus the audience‘s attention on her.

They continued with some simpler steps for a while and then came a move they were always nervous to perform.

Charlie locked eyes with Castiel and began to run at him from far away. When she jumped she grabbed his shoulders and Castiel got a hold of her waist. Swinging her legs to his side in a fast movement, then up again, then her whole body swiped between his legs and up again.

She opened them for the split second she was midair and landed perfectly on Castiel‘s hips who let go of her waist and immediately grabbed her arms. He began spinning around his own axe as she laid back, her updo nearly brushing against the dirty gymnasium floor.

The crowd began to cheer and Castiel was sure he had never felt such adrenaline in his life. They continued to finish the rest of their dance, Castiel stumbled over his feet a few times (They had mostly trained for the previous moves and Castiel hadn‘t had the time to perfectly practice the other steps)

They bowed after they had finished, both their lungs working hardly. Charlie smiled as brightly as ever, all worries finally fled away. Castiel let his gaze wander trough the room.

His wide smile went away a little bit more with every parent he saw clapping. And again he wished that Jody could‘ve been there to see him. Maybe he wasn‘t good at dancing, maybe this evening wasn‘t in any way of importance. But maybe he also just wanted her to see him accomplish _something_.

The evening went on as it started, more people began to come in. They played different music, a lot of older tunes. Charlie went to talk to her friends, Castiel went to the few people of the wrestling team that already were there.

When the music stopped and the same mother, that had announced the start of the competition, took the microphone again, Charlie immediately scanned the halls, searching for Castiel.

She stood beside him when the winner was announced.

And they both held their breaths. Disbelieve and happiness on their faces when it was announced that they had won.

People started to clap, and from behind (from the members of the wrestling team) came a few condescending cheers and claps. Castiel tried his best to ignore them as he just hugged Charlie.

They were actually happy for a few hours. Dancing to Come on Eileen for a bit, drinking punch and just talking. They had sat down on one of the tables in a corner further away from everybody else.

It was a good night.

Until one of Castiel’s team mates came up to them. He smelled of beer (not that Castiel really cared if they drank or not. It wasn‘t much of his thing but let people live, right? It just stunk).

„Great dancing, pussy.“ He laughed. „So you gonna quit the wrestling team to become a ballerina now?“

He found himself quite funny and was rather proud of the connection he had made. Castiel and Charlie just looked at each other with furrowed brows. Neither of them had expected this. So silently they choose to ignore him and turned towards each other again.

The boy didn‘t like that, his name was Mark. „Hey, I‘m talking to you, faggot.“

Castiel and Charlie continued to ignore it, even though it got harder. Mark normally was a decent guy. Not extraordinary good at school but also not bad. He was probably just a bit tipsy.

He scoffed as he kept being ignored. „Anyway.“ he unscrewed the cap of the bottle of juice in his hand. „Have a fun night, or whatever.“ He took a sip and his face scrunched up.

Then he just slowly started to pour the drink over Castiel.

It wasn‘t particularly cold but really sticky. He froze in place, not knowing what to do, while Charlie simply stared, her mouth open. She was the first one to break her freeze as she jumped out of her chair.

„Stop it, asshole.“ She pushed him back and the pouring stopped, still she got a few drops on her arm. „What the fuck is wrong with you?“ But the guy just laughed and walked away.

Charlie stood in a pool of orange juice. Staring down in disbelieve while Castiel just sat there.

He leaned back in his chair and sighed. His wet hair dangled in front of his eyes, slowly dripping, making fun of him. „Well.“ He said. „Great.“ He sighed again and pushed himself onto his feet, holding on to the table.

„I‘m gonna wash this off.“ He said and Charlie just nodded, still not fully processing what the hell happened.

„I‘ll come with you.“ She said, grabbing her jacket and they made their way out of the gym, trough one of the back doors, and towards a bathroom.

The stalls were empty and Charlie decided to go into the bathroom with Castiel. „Boy‘s restrooms are always so dirty.“ She sighed, kicking some of the dirty hand wipes that were scattered on the floor. Castiel didn‘t comment on it, usually he never used the restrooms at the school, he would just wait until he got home.

He started to let the water run, staring at himself in the mirror.

„What do you think was his problem?“ Charlie asked, getting some fresh papers to wipe the counter dry. Castiel just shrugged, starting to unbutton his shirt.

„Well, whatever it was,“ She continued as she hopped onto the counter, dangling her feet above the ground. „I hope he drinks so much that he throws up. Or like stumbles and falls into the puddle. Or something else that sucks.“

She desperately tried to get a chuckle out of Castiel but his lips wouldn‘t move in the slightest. When he pulled the sticky shirt off of his arms, he threw it onto the dirty floor and started to wash his face.

„Oh, Cassie!“ Charlie called, jumping off of the counter again. „Come on it‘s a good shirt.“ She went to pick it up and carefully tried to fold it. She must admit that it was pretty disgusting smelling and feeling.

She was thinking about making another joke, to lighten the mood, as she saw Castiel‘s reflection in the mirror. His eyes were red, on the verge of tears.

„Oh, Cassie.“ She said again, quieter this time, a sudden softness in her voice.

Castiel was still not speaking. He continued washing his face, he even let the ice cold water run over his head, washing the sticky juice out of his hair. When he looked up again, his hair looked like it was sleeked back with gel.

Charlie offered him some wipes and he dried himself the best he could.

He threw them away and reached for his shirt. Charlie could see the goose bumps on his skin. Instead of handing him the wet cloth she took of her jacket. „Take this. And let‘s get out of here.“

Castiel had to admit that, even though a little short, Charlie‘s jacket was warm. It smelled like her shampoo and the fragrance comforted him in a way. They left the bright bathroom and went into the dim hallways. For a bit they just walked trough the school, faintly they heard the music coming from the gym, even some laughters.

Neither of them spoke. Silently they went towards the stairs that went down to the basement. „We can sit here.“ She said pointing downstairs. „No one will see us.“

Castiel nodded and dropped down on a step, a deep exhale pushing trough his lungs. He had his face buried between his hands and Charlie just gently put her head on his shoulder. „We won this thing.“ She whispered carefully, looking up at Castiel who moved his hands from his face.

„We really did, didn‘t we?“ He finally said, and Charlie immediately began to smile. „We were really good, huh?“

„Yes.“

„And Mark was just pressed.“ Charlie chucked.

„And probably not able to handle a beer or two.“ She rolled her eyes. „Don‘t take what he said too personal, okay?“

„I‘m not“ Castiel immediately said. „It was just the thing that caused the barrel to overflow, you know?“

„What else was there?“

He sighed, leaning his head on top of hers. „I don‘t know, Charles. I‘ve just been thinking about stuff lately. And I guess I just wish that Jody was here.“

„Yeah. I wish my parents could see this, too.“ Her voice grew smaller with every word. Castiel‘s head shot up but Charlie‘s didnt move.

„Oh shit.“ he said, hesitantly. „I didn‘t mean to-„

„It’s okay.“ She assured, looking up with a crooked smile. „It‘s been years. Still sucks. But I‘m managing. It‘s just-„oozed for the right words.

„Days like these, huh?“ Castiel finished her sentence. „When everyone got someone to cheer them on and you‘re there by yourself.“

Charlie nodded. Her eyes went blank for a second as she thought of what has been said.

Then out of nowhere a bright smile appeared on her face. „Well, we got us!“ She beamed, nudging Castiel‘s shoulder.

Playfully Castiel pretended to fall backwards, finally smiling again, his eyes closed. „One day you‘re gonna accidentally punch me in the face.“ He laughed.

As he opened his eyes again Charlie hadn‘t moved her hand from his shoulder, and she had a worried look on her face. Carefully she brushed aside the jacket to reveal more of Castiel‘s torso.

„What happened here?“ She asked, pointing at the scar right above Castiel‘s heart. He just shrugged.

„Don‘t know. Was before I got to Jody. You know I don‘t remember much from before that.“ He looked down at the round scar.

„Well, it looks like it was bad.“ She said, still not able to move away her eyes and Castiel nodded.

„I actually tried to make up stories how I got it. Silly, really.“ He scoffed. „I thought that maybe it happened _The Day_ , you know? But Jody said I wasn‘t injured when I got to them, I only had one little cut right here.“ He pointed towards his throat. Near his Adam‘s Apple was a scar, a few centimeters long and barley visible, when you didn‘t know of his existence.

Charlie nodded and finally focused her gaze somewhere else. She leaned back, her elbows on the step behind her. „You got one weird childhood, man.“

Castiel laughed, leaning back the same way. „Funny. My therapist says the same.“


	6. Teachings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trying to define yourself,  
> Is like trying to bite your own teeth.
> 
> — Alan Watts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter you all will finally meet Dean! More of him to come with the next chapters!

_**CHAPTER FOUR** _

**_Teachings_ **

**A cabin in Druid Heights in California, October 1973**

Castiel felt sorrow. Deep inside his chest, he had never felt so human before. It pushed against his being, a pained momentum of helplessness. He felt tears forming in his eyes.

 _Human_ , he thought and grabbed the hand of the older man that laid in bed. A weak squeeze signaled that he was awake. Castiel gently squeezed back, he could see the first few brown spots on the man‘s skin. He was only 58 years old.

His eyes kept wandering around the room. Castiel had only been here for a few days but to him it felt longer than eternity. It wasn‘t completely clear to him why he cared so much for Alan Watts, but he just did. It felt right. He looked at the man, his beard was long and grey.

„Can you explain to me again?“ He asked and Alan smiled, there was no sign of pain on his face, even when he was so weak. Castiel pulled every inch of sorrow and hurt out of his soul, and into his own, it was the best he could do.

„Of course,“ The man‘s voice calmed Castiel‘s breath and thoughts, he had rarely heard someone speak as softly. „Imagine if you take a bottle of ink and throw it against a wall.“

Castiel closed his eyes and tried, for once, not to think of heaven. Over the past decades his visits on earth had become more frequently, and rarely ever with a heavenly cause on hand. The other angels barely noticed that Castiel was gone (They only did a few times, when he had been gone for over two years), but it still worried him to stay away for any amount of time. Ever since his sense of time began to change, he felt that he was staying away for too long.

He shook his head and all the images in front of his inner eye disappeared. He saw only a white wall. Someone took a bottle of black ink an threw it.

Castiel nodded. „Now what do you see?“ Asked Alan, he had his own eyes closed but in his mind the ink was blood red. He wondered for a brief second if it was because of the fever.

„I see an ink splatter across the wall.“

„Explain to me the difference you see between the center and the edge of the splatter.“

„The edge is finer, far more complicated. The center is a mere black void.“

„The void, it‘s the Big Bang. Can you imagine it? Humans, we‘re this complicated little pattern just right at the edge.“

Castiel sighed and the grip around the man‘s hand loosened. „I am not human.“ He looked down in shame.

„Oh, Castiel. You are far more human than most men I know. Regardless of what you are, and this is the lesson here, my friend, you‘re still _it_.“ Watts remembered the angel of the teaching at hand before he continued to speak. „You see, we define ourself as only that. Just these mere little figures walking around on the face of the earth. Right, there‘s nothing more to us, we think—“

„I don‘t think I’m just this body.“ Castiel interrupted „I know I am not.“

Watts paused to think for a bit before a smile erupted his face. „Oh, no. No you don‘t. But you think you‘re just an angel. Just this being created to serve heaven, right? Like we humans, we look for meaning in life, thinking there has to be one. Would be terrible if it were so, wouldn‘t it? But that is beside the point, because, you see, my dear friend, when you look at that splatter. You don‘t see the droplets on the edge as being isolated from the rest. You look at the whole. And it‘s : on the inside and on the edge.“

He gave Castiel time to think about what he said. Castiel felt like he was only an angel. He knew God created him, he knew he was nothing more than the celestial being he knew he was. _There ought to be a difference in human thinking_ , he thought, _I know God is real, I know I‘m just me. What point is he trying to make?_

Absently Castiel nodded and the man on the bed began to talk again, Castiel still grasped his hand.

„Now, when you see the Big Bang,“ he said „When we look at that. We define ourselfs as being all the way out on that edge. And with that we cut ourselfs off. But YOU are the Big Bang. You are NOT a produce of the Big Bang, that‘s the common misconception, you see. What makes you think the Big Bang ever stopped? You‘re not a produce, you‘re the original force of the universe. The Big Bang is still in process.“

„Is it the same for me?“ Castiel looked at him. A look on his face that would make anyone believe that he was, in fact, the one on his deathbed. „What do you see in _me_?“

„What I see in anyone, Castiel. When I meet you I see not just what you define yourself as, I see you as the primordial energy of the universe coming at me in this particular way. And as you pretend not to be a part of _IT_ , you‘re exactly doing what _IT_ always does.“ He chuckled madly. „You see,“ He could not stop himself from laughing. „Because we‘re all _IT_ but everyone is pretending not to be _IT_ , so everyone is doing exactly what _IT_ would do.“

There grew a smile on Castiel’s face as he saw the man being so enlightened by his own words and thoughts. „I can look at a paper cup.“ He calmed himself the faint memory of his laughter still in his voice. „and see the light of the whole cosmos. I look at it, and I think about what it means to see; Vision. Or smell, or touch and I realize the paper cup is brighter than ten thousand lights, but not blinding.“

Alan sighed and his head sunk deeper in his pillow. Castiel looked at his face and the bags under the man‘s yes had seemed to grow darker.

„Castiel,“ his voice was more stern, as if he had a pressing matter at hand. „I beg you to believe me when I say this, so listen now: You are the reason this world exists, this universe. You‘re the most important part of it. Without your eyes, you couldn’t see, without them there would not be a difference between light and dark. You experience this world trough yourself. You, by being this organism, are the universe trying to make sense of itself. We are all one.“

He squeezed Castiel hardly once more. „Don‘t try to define yourself, angel. Trying to define yourself is like trying to bite your own teeth.“ Castiel smiled, he could feel Watts‘ heartbeat weaken slowly, as he laid his head back down onto the pillow.

„You look exhausted.“ Castiel whispered. „Take a nap, at least. If you do not want me to cure you, at least take a nap.“ And the man nodded and closed his eyes. His heartbeat growing fainter. At this moment all the lives Castiel had seen came flooding in on him. He never looked back to the girl in the garden, he never visited China again to see Shennong, he never danced Tango since the 1800s and never listened to them at the theater. He felt guilt.

The tears brimming in his eyes, his throat closed up and he hardened the grip around the man‘s hand, taking in all his heart pain. His body and soul ached, and it grew worse with every breath he took, even the air felt like fire.

The man had fallen asleep but his heartbeat kept falling lower, Castiel could not bear to look at him. All his will power was needed to refrain from helping him, curing him. (Alan Watts had a heart disease, he refused to take the medication that was given to him. His steadily growing alcoholism did not help him heal)

As he heard the last pound fainting into the stillness of the room, Castiel thought about something Alan Watts said a few years before. _We don‘t know how it is to fall asleep, without ever waking up. But we also do not know how it was to wake up, without ever having gone to sleep._

Then everything was quiet, the world seemed to have lost its grace. Castiel looked around. After another few moments a reaper appeared. She ignored Castiel sitting there, even though she knew he could see her, and he ignored her. Alan‘s soul was being lifted up to heaven, but for some strange reason the thought didn‘t bring peace into the angel‘s mind.

He felt selfish for that.

But Castiel was glad to have not forgotten the time then, regarding Alan Watts life. He sat there for another few days, thinking about what Watt had taught him over their years of knowing each other.

On the third day of sitting there and thinking, someone knocked on the door. „Dad? Open up!“

Castiel vanished.

**The gymnasium halls of the small town in Kansas, April 2015**

There was something quite peculiar about this day but it was just merely out of Castiel‘s grasp. When someone told you to get a butterfly to sit on your finger; that unpleasant urgency to a normally so calm situation — that was the same feeling as bubbling inside of Castiel.

The day had been warm, warmer than most other days had been during April. Especially today the air inside the big gymnasium halls was sickening and stiff. Desperately he looked upwards to the windows, he had never seen them open. The sky was blue, nearly too bright to look at, but he saw some single branches of the trees moving with the breeze. He wished he could leave already.

He sighed, droplets of sweat shimmered on his forehead (some of them due to the weather, other thanks to the intensive training of today). Castiel tapped his foot on the floor repeatedly, impatiently.

„He‘s late.“, he simply said, voice echoing trough the nearly empty halls. The other two people with him were his wrestling coach and a not much younger teammate. „Why are we even looking for new members in the middle of the year?“

„I told you. His uncle is a friend of mine, says the kid is good and needs something to do.“ Castiel scoffed and his coach rolled his eyes. „Listen, if he‘s bad we‘re not gonna take him on, but we can at least give him a chance. Don‘t be so quick to judge.“

„I‘m not. I just got other appointments, too. And he‘s late.“

The younger kid, a new teammate just patiently stood there, his gaze switching between the team captain and the coach. He nodded to everything either or them said. The other guys on the team had already prepared him , that Castiel and the coach would often argue, but come to terms eventually. To him, it seemed like they were on the same page of things but just argued for the fun of it. So he just kept nodding, his mind trailing off to a package of crisps, he just remembered laid at home in a cupboard.

„Jack?“

His mind switched back on. „Yeah?“

„What do you think?“ Castiel asked, slowly raising an eyebrow. Jack already hated it, when he was doing that. He did that often and it was menacing.

„Oh, yes, of course.“ Jack said, hoping the answer was general enough to suffice. Castiel‘s brow lowered again, he looked defeated. He rolled his eyes, Jack could see the white that‘s how far back Castiel could roll them, and he held his hands up.

„Ugh! Fine, okay. We‘ll wait even longer. God, you two“ he gestured between the coach and Jack „—will get along.“ Castiel plopped down on a bench in the corner, staring at the ceiling. His mind trailed off a bit; he had therapy in fourth minutes, he felt it was an urgent meeting today, and this guy, being unreasonably late, would force him to cycle even faster. (And all in the burning heat of the setting sun! Castiel wanted to rip someone apart.)

Helplessly Jack‘s gaze wandered to his coach, who just stood there and shrugged. „He‘s usually more reasonable with these things. No idea what‘s bothering him today.“

Before Jack could respond someone came trough the doors. He didn‘t run, nor did he look like he was in any pressing hurry. „I‘m sorry I‘m a bit late.“ Castiel peaked up from where he laid, like a meerkat.

„You mean nearly 15 minutes.“ He sat up straight and scoffed, looking at the new kid. He seemed to be around the same age as Castiel, probably 17. Tall, fit and he got a stance that he absolutely and utterly despised, he was too smug for his liking. (Self-confidence and smugness were vastly different things to Castiel, even though he had a hard time explaining the difference between the two)

He stood there with his jacket swung over his shoulder, one foot forward, with his weight shifted. Before the kid could complain, or rather explain, because for once he had an explanation and a rather good one for the matter, the coach interrupted. „Well, what counts is that you‘re here now! We‘re happy to see you try out. Bobby told me some things about you. Dean was the name?“

„Winchester, yes, sir.“ Dean nodded proudly. Castiel rolled his eyes again, Jack swore they were stuck at the back of his head for a millisecond. Castiel wanted to fall over onto the bench again but he successfully stopped himself from that. Instead he put on his best smile, though he did not really try to be authentic.

„Welcome, Dean! The try out will be pretty simple. You will show us your skills during a simple fight. Jack here is not 100% your weight class, but one of our best fighters, so that should cancel each other out. Don‘t go easy, you don’t have to win either, just, huh, yeah, show that you‘d be an addition to the team.“

„Oh? I‘m fighting him?“ Dean pointed at Jack, and turned to talk to the coach, instead of Castiel. „I don‘t wanna be rude but he‘s really not a good opponent, right? Shouldn’t I be fighting the captain? Where is he anyway.“

„Home, sick.“ Castiel immediately said, he wasn‘t sure why he lied.It would be interesting to see how it would play out.

„Well,“ the coach turned away from Castiel with a confused look. But he shook that off rather quickly when he began to talk to Dean. „—believe Castiel here. Jack is one of our best already.“ Dean scrunched his nose at the mentioning of Castiel‘s name.

„And him?“ He nodded towards Castiel. „Why am I not fighting him? He seems to be my weight class.“

Castiel smirked, imagining how fast the smugness would fade away from his face, if they would go up against each other. „I‘m just here to offer coach my advise. I‘m not fighting today.“

Dean scoffed, imagining how fast he would win a fight against Castiel. „Too bad.“ He winked at him and the try out proceeded as planned.

Much to Dean’s disappointment the fight was interrupted before either, him or Jack, could win. The coach sent Jack home and the boy left the halls merely having said a thing, the crisps still on his mind. Castiel looked after him as he left with a smile on his face. He liked Jack, he hoped that by the end of next year, when Castiel would finish Highschool, Jack could step in for his role as captain.

The coach rubbed his hands together and smiled „Great!“ he laughed, looking at Castiel, who still sat on the bench, an unimpressed look on his face. „This was amazing, Dean. What do you think, Novak?“

Castiel wasn‘t particularly fond of Dean‘s fighting style. He played very offensive, not concentrated enough. Jack had easily found his weak spots during their fight and definitely would have won, if they had continued. His attention shifted too often, he was too aggressive sometimes and didn‘t fight strategically. But even with all of this in mind: He was still a good fighter. With the right training Dean could easily become one of the best on the team.

But he was a risk to take on. He didn‘t seem to care about rules or plans. Or hierarchies. Castiel was sure that if Dean would join the team there would be a lot of arguments about what was right.

„He was fine.“ Castiel shrugged and watched the heat in Dean‘s eyes being fueled.

„What do you mean? _Fine_?“ Dean hissed, he was still panting heavily.

„You fight too aggressively for my liking. You‘re not steady on your feet, you have no tactic, no plan. You‘re afraid to take a hit and that makes it easy to find your weak spots.“ Castiel smiled to himself. „You never cover your left. I suppose that you‘re right handed.“

Dean stood there with and half open mouth, his chest still moving up and down heavily with every breath. He had stammend his hands into his hips and just scoffed at what Castiel said.

„And you can‘t take criticism very well. Which isn‘t a good trade to have when you wanna be in a team.“ Castiel leaned back.

„Listen here—“ Dean pointed at him now, making a few steps forward. „I don‘t know who you think you are, but if you want to keep talking big words you should maybe show what they‘re worth.“

The coach sighed and Castiel steadily stood up. But there was no force in his movements, or even anger. Maybe a bit of amusement in the way he moved. „I don‘t have to prove myself to you, Dean. It‘s the other way around.“

„Oh, please! Because what? You watched a few fights on television and are an expert now?“

„Boys!“ The coach stepped between them as they kept coming closer to each other. „Dean, Castiel‘s criticism is valid and if you can‘t see your own flaws then this team doesn‘t need you. And Castiel, quit playing around. As a captain you should know better and encourage your mates, too, not just put them down.“

Castiel clenched his jaw, he would’ve bitten his own teeth if possible. But instead of arguing he admitted his flaw and looked down, a wave of shame coming over him. He felt how it burned on his cheeks. „Yes, coach.“ His voice was small. He looked up again and at Dean. He couldn‘t read the expression on his face. „If Dean wants in, and you want him too, coach, he‘s welcome in this team. You‘re a good fighter, man. You‘ll become even better, if you join us.“

He tried to smile and coach nodded. „Perfect. Dean?“

The boy sighed and his shoulders dropped. „There‘s still a lot I have to learn.“ He rubbed the back of his neck „My fighting skills are mostly self-taught, you know. And I should really be more open to criticism... especially from the team captain.“ He added and there was a sudden hint of respect on his face, but definitely surprise as well.

„Great. Now, Novak, why don‘t you go change and I give Dean our schedule and everything.“

Castiel nodded and made his way to the changing rooms. As he approached the lockers he saw Jack leavingjust then and gave him a thumbs up. The Freshman put on his sunglasses and smiled, giving a thumbs up back.

Castiel was alone in the locker room. They were in the basement and only had tiny windows far up on the ceiling. Every single one of them was opened but it still smelled of cheap perfume and sweat. No matter how many times he would come into these rooms after training his stomach would always turn at the smell. He saw the small cloud of steam creeping away from where the showers were. He sighed with relief and scrambled for his towel inside the small training bag. There was only one other backpack in the room, he assumed it was Dean‘s. It was small, brown and looked merely packed. For some reason he felt the sudden urge to open it but immediately decided against it and instead turned to make his way into the showers.

The fresh water felt good on his skin. He had had a backache for a few weeks now and the running water put a gentle pressure on the pain. He decided to not wash his hair, since he read somewhere that too much shampoo wasn‘t good for its structure. (And he was still in somewhat of a time rush, even though the try ou tdidn‘t take as long as he had expected)

With the towel swung around his waist he made his way back.

Dean was already standing there, he didn‘t even hear Castiel approach. Dean observed something in his hands, though Castiel didn‘t see what it was at fist glance. Only as he came closer it dawned on him that Dean held his necklace, studying it.

When he heard Castiel coming closer, he looked up, calmly. „You‘re religious?“ Dean held the necklace up and the crucifix dangled in the air, turning around his own axe.

„Yes.“ Castiel thought about adding more to it but he didn‘t feel like it. He just put out his hand and waited for Dean to give it back. Gently it was placed inside his palm and Castiel opened the clasp and laid the jewelry around his neck.

He struggled to get it closed. Dean kept staring at him and Castiel began to feel shifty under his gaze. He finally felt the necklace close and exhaled in relief, turning away from the immensely uncomfortable situation and ready to put on some actual clothes.

Castiel hadn‘t noticed it but while he had put on the necklace, Dean had watched the pendant drop on his skin. The crucifix had fallen right in the middle of his chest, and right next to the scar above his heart. Unintentionally his eyes widened just a bit and his body stiffened for a moment.

He started to pull his shirt over his head. While Castiel was already changing into his jeans, Dean was still contemplating wether he should say something about the scar or not. But before his mind could make the rational decision, that it was none of his business and he didn‘t know the guy well enough to be asking these types of things, his mouth began to talk.

„What happened there?“ He asked and as Castiel turned around, he was just pulling up the zip of his jeans,to see Dean pointing at himself. Where Castiel had a scar, Dean had a tattoo.

„You ask a lot of questions.“ Castiel smiled, he wasn‘t mad at the question anymore, he had taught himself not to be. With every new team mate, the same thing was asked and by now it seemed like a ritual to Castiel. Though he never answered any of them. „What does your tattoo mean?“ He nodded towards it.

„Oh, ehr, it‘s a family thing, I guess.“

„See.“ Castiel chuckled a bit, trying not to show the undertone of sadness that he still felt, talking about this topic. „So is _this_.“ And he put on his shirt.

Dean didn‘t know how to respond to that and Novak just pulled together his things, ready to leave. As he passed the Winchester, he gave Dean an encouraging pat on the shoulder „Showers are in there.“ He pointed and smirked, then went outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. Alan Watts is very dear to me. If you don‘t know his lessons, there are a bunch of speeches on YouTube that you can check out :)


	7. Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted  
> Is the most terrible poverty
> 
> — Mother Theresa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this chapter.   
> Would be great if you would tell me your thoughts, too!

_**CHAPTER FIVE** _

_**Brothers** _

**A moldy two-bed motel room, Kansas 2015**

Dean looked after his little brother Sam as he ran up the stairs to their motel room. He could hear the sounds of the small keychain clinking in his hands. „Look for something good to watch on TV!“ Dean called after him but he doubted that Sam heard him. He waited until he saw the young boy vanish inside their room before he went towards the reception.

There was a young lady standing behind the counter. She was tending another customer at the moment but her eyes kept switching to Dean, a warm smile on her red lips. She had tucked the sides of her long, red hair behind her ears.

Dean smiled back at her, mindlessly turning the rack of postcards in front of him. Some of them had mountains on them, others a beautiful looking lake (It made Dean wonder if it was just some lake, Orr if it was actually close to here). As he swept trough them his eyes kept falling over to the redhead behind the counter. He felt like he had seen her before.

After a while Dean decided to take the postcard with the town’s main road and green city sign on it. As the older man before him left, he laid down the postcard on the counter together with a little pin of a tiger‘s head, which was displayed next to the cash register.

The girl scanned the postcard and typed in a number for the pin. „That‘s it then?“ She asked and Dean nodded before he realized he wanted to ask something else too.

„Oh one more thing: Do you guys need a repairman, maybe? I‘m looking for a job here.“

To his surprise, the girl nodded and some of her hair fell from behind her ears into her face. „Actually, yes. But not on a regular basis, though. If you write down your number I can give that to my boss and he‘ll call you.“

„That‘d be great!“ Dean smiled, taking the pen and paper from her hands to write down his phone number. He scribbled fast as the woman behind him began to tap impatiently with her foot.

„It’s three-seventy then. By the way, do I know you from somewhere?“ She smiled again, taking the note and putting in her back pocket.

Dean laid down a five dollar bill on the counter. „Funny, I was gonna ask you the same thing. I‘ve only been in this town for two days, though, so I doubt it.“

She nodded absently, taking out the change from the register. „No, I feel like I saw you somewhere before. You go to Highschool here?“

„Was my first day, today.“ He smiled taking the change from her hands. „My name‘s Dean. Winchester.“

„Well, Dean. I‘m Charlie. Must‘ve seen you at school then.“ She closed the register and it made the familiar clicking noise. „You‘re staying at a motel, though?“

„Oh, yeah.“ He smiled, taking his things off of the counter. The woman behind him coughed dramatically. Charlie rolled her eyes. „Only until the new house is all furnished.“ He lied.

„Oh, cool then. See you around, I guess.“ Dean nodded with a smile and left.

They never usually stayed in exquisite motels, if there even was a thing like that (There was, the called it Hotel), but there were the ones that were so dirty, moldy and all in all disgusting, you‘d feel cleaner sleeping in a gutter than on that mattress.

Dean remembered the one stay, their father had left them for a week, somewhere in Dakota. It was so bad, that Dean took all the money he had saved up over the past couple of weeks so he could afford to rent a single-bed room in another motel. Sam had slept on the less disgusting mattress, while Dean took the floor (He would‘ve stayed at the other motel, if that wouldn‘t have meant leaving Sam unsupervised)

This Motel was a good hit in the middle field. The bathroom was a bit moldy, but you barley stayed in there anyway. There were two big windows, a small fridge and stove, even a small table with two chairs, only one of which was half broken. It had Dean wondering about how long their stay was going to be, last time they were in a room that nice, they stayed for two months.

Dean made a mental note to ask the receptionist how far in advance the room had been paid for.

As he made his way up the stairs, he eyed the wide parking lot from above. Their father’s car had been gone since the morning. John Winchester wasn‘t really big on goodbyes. Dean sighed, taking the last steps u, looking forward and shaking the thoughts from his head.

He opened the door to their room.

„ _Looks like we've got another mystery on our hands!_ “ The voice of Fred Jones came trough the TV. Sam laid on his stomach on the bed and watched the cartoon. His shoes were messily kicked trough the room and his backpack stood on the not-halfway-broken chair.

„I put on some Scooby Doo.“ He said, sitting up and smiling at Dean who put the postcard down on the table.

„Great!“, the older brother said walking towards the bed to see which episode was playing. „I got you something.“ He handed the pin to Sam.

„Oh, nice!“ The boy jumped from the bed and over to his backpack. Its yellow fabric was covered with dozens of pins. The boy hastily looked for an empty space to pin the tiger to. He smiled, proudly. „Is Dad coming back tonight?“

Dean sighed, turning down the volume of the TV a little bit. „I doubt it. We‘re probably going to be on our own for a little while. But see the good side of it—“ He pushend himself off of the bed again.

„—we can eat as much pizza as we want!“ He pulled two (not so) frozen pizzas out of his backpack and smiled widely, hoping for a smile to appear on Sam‘s face, too.

„I want the one with mushroom.“ Sam said.

Dean knew that it was hard for his younger brother to cope with being on the road so much. He tried his best to make it easy on Sam but in situations like this: Dean felt like he failed him already. But Sam forced a smile on his lips, and even though Dean knew it was fake, it made him just a little bit happier.

Sam went back to the bed and turned the volume up again, while Dean put in the pizzas.

He could hear the roaring coming from the air circulation of the oven. Every few seconds it sounded like a loose screw inside of a washing machine. Dean ignored it.

He searched around in his backpack for a pen, reminding himself that he should really get a pencil case soon. When he finally found one, the sharp tip pierced his skin a little, leaving a blue smudge on his finger. He groaned, falling back into the chair.

For another few seconds he just rested there, listening to sounds of the oven, to Scooby Doo on TV and the occasional laughs of his brother. He took deep breaths to clear his mind before he leaned forward.

He turned the postcard around and began to write the address.

_Bobby Singer_

_2194 Main Road_

_Singer Salvage Yard_

_34728, Sioux Falls, Kansas_

_Hey Bobby,_

_Promised you to write more cards._

_Dad left this morning and I think he‘s going to stay gone for at least a couple of weeks._

_I just wanted to let you know that me and Sam are not far from you. Just a few towns over. The Highschool here was the only one in the area to take us in this shortly. If you got time on your hands you could maybe swing by?_

_I think Sam would like to see you again. And me too._

_Anyway, the town is nice. Me and Sam are good. I‘m in the wrestling team now._

_Talk to you later, old man._

_D.W._

He started to smell the melting cheese and warm crust coming from the oven. He neatly (more neatly than most things, anyway) put the postcard in his backpack and prepared two plates.

Throughout the commercial breaks Sam talked like a waterfall. Dean would never let him know, it would boost his ego too much, but he envied Sam for being able to focus this much on school. Before Dean went to try out for the wrestling team, he helped Sam find the room of the book club. Now, that he knew they were going to stay for a while, Sam thought about entering. He had an eye on the theater club as well.

Dean just shook his head but smiled at everything Sam told him. The kid could drive around for weeks, being „homeschooled“ (Telling a trucker to give ballet classes was kind of the same as telling John Winchester to homeschool his kids, though it was a bit more likely to see a man in a tutu. So Sam wasn‘t homeschooled, he was rather self-taught), yet every time a school took them in, he immediately was back at top of his class.

Things like these just came to him, just like fighting did, or even cooking. Dean knew Sam only ate the pizza to make him happy. The kid would much rather cook for his own, and something healthy at that. Dean tried to make a salad for him once — it burned.

„Sowh, hau wash shour daey?“ Sam asked, his mouth full of pizza crust. (In reality Sam loved oily foods, but he had self control. Well, most of the time.)

„What? Shewing is a thing, dude.“

Sam rolled his eyes and swallowed the rest of the food. „I said: How was your day?“

„Oh, t‘was fine.“ Dean would much rather want to change the topic. „Do you want the rest of mine? I‘m full.“ He pushed over the remaining three pieces of his pizza. Even though Sam gave him a suspicious look, he took the food and munched it down. (Scratch the thing about self control)

„When you’re done, do the dishes, and then you‘re homework.“ Dean got up. „I‘m going ward the room a bit.“

Sam rolled his eyes again and groaned. He hated when Dean would spray demon traps and weird sigils all over the place. He only ever did that, when they were staying somewhere for longer than a few days, but it also meant that you could not bring anyone back „home“ with you, without them thinking you’re a psychopath.

Dean ruffled Sam‘s hair. „Shut up, I‘m gonna do them behind the paintings and mats and stuff. Don‘t want something like Dakota happen again, huh? You can bring all your girlfriends here now.“ He laughed.

„She was NOT my girlfriend!“ Dean laughed at that but didn‘t say anything else. He made his way towards a duffle bag under his bed and took out the spray can.

——-

Sam fell asleep early that evening. Dean couldn’t close one eye. It was always like this the first few nights, after they changed towns. He sighed, looking at the bed next to him. Sam was deep inside his dreams, his breath slightly faster but steady (Dean had learned that during the REM phase of your sleep your breath would fasten, it was also the phase where most of your dreams would happen. He read that in a science magazine, when they had stayed somewhere in Florida. The previous passer-trough, who had rented their room had probably stayed for a month or longer and had the issues sent to the motel room. The issue Dean was given at the reception one day, was the last one that came in. It had never really occurred to him before that science could be more than chemistry and biology)

He looked trough the room and at the cheap paintings. They were drilled to the walls so no one would steal them, but after being on the road for so long he found out that only the frame was drilled to the wall. You could easily pull out the painting itself, or rather the print-out. He had put warding signs behind them.

 _The room is save_ , he thought. Lately, Dean began to be more rational about these things. As Sam grew older Dean got to the understanding that he didn‘t have to be around his brother all of his life. He was 15 now, and thinking about all the things Dean did when he was his age... Well, it was safe to say that Dean _knew_ Sam could take care of himself.

At least for a few minutes.

He got up from the bed and took one of the sticky notes that had been placed on the table, when they arrived (Dean wasn‘t sure if it was yet another thing someone forgot there or if the motel counted sticky notes in their package).

_I‘m out for a jog._

_Be back in an hour. (2:30 now)_

_If anything weird is happening_

_call me._

_Dean_

He had expected a fresher April night but the air, even though lighter now than it was during the day, was still heavy on his skin. It was incredibly humid but Dean had always enjoyed that jungle-like feeling. He also really loved Tarzan and the Jungle Book as a kid.

As he jogged trough the small town some things occurred to him, that he had missed during the short drive-around their father gave them, when they had arrived.

The streets were very broad, broader than he knew from the area (He only knew Sioux Falls in the area, there were very narrow streets in Sioux Falls). The houses next to the Motel mostly seemed unoccupied, though Dean was sure it was only the facade.

The town itself wasn‘t farm from the Motel, after a five minute jogg he realized how the buildings around him began to change. Now they were family homes, with a front and back yard. A dog barked at him, as he passed a white picket-fence. A feeling of nostalgia, for something he only ever had for a brief second of his life, washed over him.

Something about this town made him feel welcome. As if there was something that pulled him in, that just radiated pure love. As that thought passed his mind, Dean passed by a church-looking building. How ironic, he thought.

The building had a wide front yard, though expect for some bushes there wasn‘t much going on. The two doors on the front were immense, going up on the high walls. They looked heavy and wooden, with steal around the edges for support. The facade itself looked simple but the brick stones gave it an unusually cold aura.

Dean passed the convent, wondering if it was abandoned or not, and he had rarely ever felt so small.

What he didn‘t see was: The one room inside the big building, which was still brightly lit. A man dancing with himself could be seen trough it. But the round window of Castiel Novak‘s room went towards the back yard, not for Dean to be seen.


	8. Memories - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You don't drown by falling in the water;   
> You drown by staying there
> 
> ― Edwin Louis Cole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER
> 
> This chapter deals with trauma. There‘s severe descriptions of violence and death, involving children as well.   
> If you are sensitive to these things DO NOT READ IT.  
> I cut the chapter into two parts, you can skip Part One and continue with Part Two if you need to.
> 
> The chapter describes Castiel‘s memories of The Day.

_**CHAPTER SIX** _

_**Memories - Part One** _

**Somewhere in the middle of nowhere in Ancient Egypt, way before Christ**

Castiel had watched a foreign man, some decades ago, who intruded a village. On the search for food he ate the serpents, which moved around in the dirt. What he hadn‘t known was that the villagers severed those animals more than they served their own children.

As it was usual for human nature the village began to chase the man, ready to take his life for killing their serpent. Castiel watched, studying the scene intensely. The man, in his fright, ran trough a fire that lit his clothes. Castiel had not taken a human form, he watched from far above, as if he was looking at an experiment. He could not hear the man‘s screams.

The village would not stop chasing him, until he fell into a lake.

There they stopped.

Castiel didn‘t fully understand it then; it was above his jurisdiction.

Now he watched a sick mother, her back was scrunched over and the heat of the desert had made her skin like leather. Castiel stared at the human, for over a dozen decades now it had been his job to study humans from afar. He did not know why he had been given a task so undesired.

The woman kneeled down beside the corpse of a child. Her bones cracked where they met the floor. 

He shook his head, seeing the flies creeping around the girl‘s face. Even when the child had begun to become sick, the woman wouldn‘t bother sending them away. _Diseases_ , he sent a thought to heaven trough angelic transmissions, _they do not know where they come from. Or they do not care about their children. Or it is awful pantheism._

Briefly, Castiel thought about the humans he had visited a few hundred years ago. They had looked at the sky and thought of it as their God. When they had looked at a rain drop, which reflected the sky in itself, they had thought that God was inside the drop, as well.

If Castiel had known emotions well enough, he would‘ve understood that he despised pantheism.

He looked back at the mother, she had a bowl of dirty river water in her lap. She began to hum, as she carelessly poured water over her child‘s face. The flies made their way, but when the pouring stopped they immediately found their way back.

Castiel felt a light appear next to him. The presence was strong and heavenly. At first Castiel himself felt indifferent to the presence of the higher angel. It had not been his jurisdiction to know why they were here.

The woman had now pulled a still glooming lock from the fire. She guided it over her daughter‘s limp body and ash sprinkled down on her skin. The flies did not care.

A second light appeared. Not as strong as the first one but still much stronger than Castiel. In the depths of his being lingered a sense of curiosity but it was overwhelmed by monotony. He shall only watch.

The woman murmured a prayer and he could watch the young girl‘s soul being lifted off of her body. He was not taught to read the emotions from the colors of her aura. Where her brain was in her physical body, there was a small red spot now in her soul. Where her heart had been a muddy blue spread across.

Her soul was mostly colored pastel, and Castiel knew what pastels meant.

The poor soul was in dire need of serenity. She had been troubled, _probably by all the flies in her eyes_ , Castiel thought, _pantheism_. But he did not really care.

The two golden lights moved forward. He recognized his brothers. The Archangels were the closest you could come to seeing God. They glowed a peaceful warmth from them, it reset Castiel‘s mind. The sounds echoing from them pulled Castiel into its ban, he felt at home, like heaven they pulled him away from his thoughts. He just was, at this moment. He just knew.

He watched his own light glowing brighter within his middle, and he felt his being stretch itself gently. The light of archangel Michael disappeared in the drops of water that had been poured over the dead body and the Reds and Blues of her mind and heart were washed away.

Before the light of Gabriel disappeared into the ashes of the fire, Castiel thought he had seen a glimpse of Gabriel‘s being staring into him. But that must have been a lapse in his judgement. Their beings were at a thousand of places at once, for every ritual made.

When Gabriel‘s being dragged itself into the ash the pastels of the girl‘s soul cleared up and she glowed a sudden withe-ish gold, before her soul was dragged into the heavens.

He felt the world change, for a mere second it spun slower, nearly unnoticeable but Castiel noticed everything. And then the scene was quiet again. The woman‘s tear washed a single stream of her face clean from the dirt.

There were more flies now. The woman, for the first time, shooed them away, Castiel felt something in his being flash, he did not understand humanity. To him humans weren‘t particularly lesser beings. There was a hierarchy and they were not at the top of it, but that didn‘t mean they were not of importance. Everything and everyone was important in a sense. Castiel knew that ever since the begging.

He just did not see how they were created in God‘s image.

He was about to leave the scene to report back to heaven when a transmission came in. He heard the voice speak in his mind.

_THE SEVENTH DAY HAS BEGUN._

_THEY ATE THE FRUIT._

_THE BEGINNING OF DUALISM IS NIGH._

Castiel looked back at the woman, who had fallen down, crying and sobbing.

Castiel vanished. God was gone to rest.

**Castiel‘s room, 4:30 in the morning, 2015**

_I haven‘t been to therapy in three weeks now. I honestly thought I was getting better but I guess I again misjudged the situation. I don‘t know exactly why everything is coming back now, maybe it‘s because of Easter? I don‘t have any memories of a good Easter. I mean, not of outside the convent anyway. And I love Jody, she knows that. Everybody hopefully know that, right? But sometimes I wonder if I ever had a happy Easter before The Day._

_And I know Dr. Moser wants me to stop calling it that, she thinks I‘m not true to my feelings when I call it that. But the name grew on me, what else am I supposed to write? The day my family was murdered, the day I became an orphan, the day where I lost every memory I ever had, the day my life turned to a complete fucking shitshow?_

_I prefer The Day._

_Anyway, I keep loosing track writing these entries. I was going to talk about something else that I don‘t remember now. However. I think I had happy Easters. After all my family ( ~~it still is weird to call them that. I don‘t even know them. But it feels even weirder to just call them „them“ or „those people“. But I didn‘t know them. But people don‘t like when you call your blood relatives anything else but family~~. I know for myself that the only family I have is Jody), they were religious. So they probably celebrated Easter a bit, right? Maybe not looking for eggs or whatever but maybe a nice family dinner? After all I know they must‘ve been at least four other people in ~~that~~ my family._

_Jody still won‘t tell me how she found me, or who brought me here, or even what happened The Day._

~~_I‘ve been here seven years and never once a social worker checked on me. I should probably not write that down, it can‘t be legal. Jody never answered the question but she told me not to tell it to anybody else. But who is gonna read these?, whatever._ ~~

_i have been feeling lost lately. I think I need to go back to therapy. The blood is back in my dreams, my tinnitus is back too. Otherwise there’s not much going on in my life, I guess. I just don‘t feel like im at the top of my game lately._

_I‘m reading the return of the native by Thomas hardy. It‘ a good book._

_Theres a new kid in wrestling class. Charlie wants to dye her hair again but I told her not to, then she wanted to get a perm._

_I‘ve been thinking about the future after Highschool ends and what to do. Maybe I will just travel for a bit. Who knows what‘s going to happen to me._

_I just want to remember._

He closed the notebook and hid it under the mattress. It read _five_ am on the clock, he sighed and got up. The alarm was turned off before it even began. Castiel woke up this early most days, but he was never very fond of mornings. Today he wasn‘t sleepy, but that was because he hadn‘t fallen asleep yet.

As he went to the bathroom, he couldn‘t shake the thoughts from his head. His dreams were never clear, only those about The Day.

Images of a limp body passed trough his mind. He had never remembered the man‘s face but he was tall, average build. One of his legs was stretched out of its joint, it went further down than the other.

Castiel pressed his eyes together.

The man‘s neck was twisted far to the left, turning away from his sight, but the man‘s chest faced to the right. Blood thickened around his stomach and drooled to the ground. He could see the pool growing larger. Was it his father or a brother? Or neither?

Castiel washed his face.

A strange man picked him up from the ground. Castiel saw blood on himself, he could never remember any sharp pain.

Castiel‘s hands traced over the minor, faded scar on his throat, staring at it in the mirror.

On their way out of the house they passed the dead body of a little girl. Her nose was shattered. Her blue eyes stared deadly into the nothingness, until another man gently reached over to close them. Her stomach was slit open, the guts spilled out on the floor, forming a puddle: brownish-red blood, yellow pus and fat.

Castiel fell on his knees in front of the toilet. He remembered the smell of it all and started to retch. His body was shaking, his fingers turned cold. He threw up.

There had been two more bodies but Castiel stopped his thoughts. I

It read _five-thirty_ on the clock.


	9. Memories — Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It‘s a short chapter, but that‘s due to the chapter being cut in half.  
> The next ones will be longer!

_**CHAPTER SIX** _

_**Memories** _

Castiel couldn‘t put much effort into his appearance that day. Like every morning he dragged himself down the large staircase into the kitchen of the convent. The nuns were already awake, making their ways trough the halls like happy ghosts. Each of them had their own room, the convent had 11 nuns working in it, Jody had been the Mother Superior for a while now. Though she never asked for Castiel to call her Mother, and he had acknowledged that pass.

None of the nuns payed any particularly attention to Castiel. He wasn‘t very fond of mornings in general, so seeing him slouching trough the halls was nothing unusual.

Jody sat in the kitchen, brewing coffee. The smell, normally so very warm to Castiel, so welcoming, was now twisting his inserts. The mere thought of the bitter liquid entering his body caused him to stiffen up. So when Jody offered him a cup, like every morning, he declined. He tried to escape her gaze, looking at his own feet while plopping down into his chair.

Castiel was pale and the bags under his eyes — they were always bad, but today they seemed more dragged and darker. He had his arms slung around him to calm his shaking. Jody‘s soft hand reached for his under arm, her thumb gently rubbing against his skin. With her touch his muscles relaxed. He could practically feel her warm smile, it enlightened the room as if it were golden.

„Do you want to talk about it?“ She asked and looked down, trying to find his eyes. A deep sigh illuminated from his lips, his breath was shaking like it did during cold winter hikes. He looked up and tried to speak, only to find that his throat was closed up and his vision fogged by brimming tears.

He shook his head no and tried to catch his breath once more, biting down on his lips. The backbones cracked a little as he sat up straight, Jody‘s grasp loosened and she gave Castiel room to move. Her hand rested before him on the table, not too far away to make him feel abandoned.

„I—“ he had to cough. „I need to tell you something, Jody. But you have to promise not to be mad.“

She nodded reassuringly but her smile grew smaller and her hand crumbled up every so slightly in fear.

„A few weeks ago, I, uh —, I convinced Charlie to make a call for me. She pretended to be you and we called my therapist to tell her that I wouldn‘t be able to come in for the next five sessions.“ He could feel Jody‘s eyes widen a little and her hand moved backwards even more. Castiel leaned forward, as if he was afraid she was going away and he had to run after her.

„I just thought I was better!“ He exclaimed, pointing at himself as if he had to try and make himself believe his own words. „I— I was feeling better and Jody—!“ He realized now how hysteric he had become, on the verge of screaming. A nun that passed by the kitchen stopped and looked inside. Jody‘s jaw was clenched. Was she angry or sad? She had crossed her arms.

„I‘ve been going there so long I just...“ His shoulders fell down again and he shook his head. „I shouldn‘t have done it.“ He sighed and pressed his eyes together, looking away with blushing red cheeks.

Jody seemed as if she had been frozen, just looking at Castiel trough her disappointed eyes.

„But it‘s— it‘s worse now.“ He whispered from under his hands „And I want to go back to talk about it.“ He sniffled. „I— remember some things clearer now. Somehow. And I‘m not sure anymore if they really happened or if I start to make things up.“

All of a sudden, all of Jody‘s muscles tensed, she held her breath for a short second, making a mental note to call Bobby, when this conversation was over. She loosened up again, her arms untwining

„Castiel,“ She took his arm again and the warmth tucked him in. „I appreciate you being honest. But please, don’t ever do that again, do you understand?“

She had rarely ever been so firm, he nodded.

„Good.“ She finally got up again, letting go of Castiel. „If you need to, you can stay at home today.“

„No—“ He washed with his hands over his face. „No, I have practice today but thanks Jody.“ He smiled, weakly and got up. He looked outside to the garden, then back to Jody, who was already working on something else in the kitchen. He pointed to the yard. „Today is Tuesday. I‘m gonna tend the roses. Want to come with?“ There laid hope in his voice, and a wish to add a begging _please?_ but stopped himself.

„No, not today.“ She didn‘t even turn around to say it to him, she didn‘t see his gaze fall to the ground.

„Okay.“

After Castiel had left, Jody stopped unnecessarily cleaning the counter and her head fell down. „Fuck—„ her head fell back into her neck and she looked at the ceiling. „Fuck!“ She threw the towel against the wall. Another nun that passed by looked at her in worry but Jody gestured her to make her way.

When she looked out the window she saw Castiel, watering the roses like he did every week when it didn‘t rain. The bush had been growing over the years and was easily taller than himself. Jody kept watching him, he sprayed the leaves with rain water now.

Some small buds were already visible, but not a single blossom bloomed yet.

She looked for Bobby‘s number in her phone and dialed without hesitation. It rang a few times before a grunting voice picked up.

„Six A.M., Mother Mills, this better be important.“

Castiel fertilized the soil a bit and sprayed the leaves to protect them from bugs. He always did that, even though Jody had never seen a single bug even near these roses. They were always perfect.

„It might be, it might not be, Bobby. But I need you to come here for a visit.“

„What happened?“ His voice was more energetic now.

„Nothing yet. As I said, I‘m not even sure if it is something. He just said that he started to remember some things. And I think you should check if it‘s anything unusual.“

„Okay, I can come around today, around noon. Is there anything else unusual?“

Castiel turned away from the bush looking for a tool to loosen the soil.

A bud sprung open and began to bloom in the most vibrant red. Jody froze on spot.

„Yes, you could say so.“


	10. Angels who fall, stay on the ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “‚What if I fall?'  
> 'Sooner or later, we all do.” 
> 
> ― Stephen King

_**CHAPTER SEVEN** _

_**Angels who fall, stay on the ground** _

**The cafeteria of the Highschool, 2015**

„You should just keep your hair like this, I think.“ Castiel shrugged, watching Charlie eat her burger. „Looks more mature, you know?“

„You really think mature is the look for me?“ To her surprise Castiel contemplated for a second. He had his arms crossed before his chest, looking up and down on her. The girl had her face stuffed with food, a bit of her red lipstick smudged on the side, where she had tried to wipe sauce away.

„You got a little sumn‘—“ Castiel gestured at himself. With a fresh napkin she wiped the left corner of her mouth and looked at Castiel. „No, no, no. Other side.“ She wiped the other side and looked at him again.

Throughout it all she kept on chewing. „Is it gone?“

„Yep. And also no: Mature is definitely not your look, it‘s rather misleading probably.“

„Oh, that I can get behind!“ She smiled and was about to say something as Dean walked into the cafeteria. There was a smaller boy beside him who waved him goodbye, Charlie hadn‘t seen him before. But she kept looking at Dean, as he seemed a bit lost, looking around the room.

„What are you staring at? Is it Row—“, Castiel turned around. „Oh. It‘s him.“ He sighed and fell back into his chair, all excitement washed away.

„You know him?“

„Yes, he tried out with the wrestling team yesterday. Doubt we‘ll get along well.“

„Oh, c‘mon!“ Charlie exclaimed. „Look how lost he‘s walking about.“

„Charlie—“ She began to wave. „Don‘t you da—“

„Dean!“ The Winchester looked at her and smiled. „Come here!“

While she had a wide smile on her lips Castiel continued to stare at her, slouching deeper down onto his chair. he felt exhausted, stressed, powered out. Whatever word would come to his mind first: Thatwas how he felt. Moody, in general. He mindlessly began to shake his head, watching Charlie‘s smile grow wider. She probably thought that he was doing a bit, playing it up to be so annoyed. But it really wasn‘t a bit.

For once Castiel Novak was in a genuinely bad mood.

„Oh, hey, uh— Charlie was it?“ Dean smiled as he approached them. He couldn‘t see Castiel‘s face yet, as he was facing him with his back. But as Dean came closer he began to realize who the other person there was. His smile didn‘t drop but something pierced in his chest. He was still feeling silly about what happened yesterday. „And Castiel, hey, I thought I wouldn‘t see you again until training today.“

Castiel really wanted to answer something snappy. Something so painfully blunt that Dean would loose any ill perception he might have about their relationship. They were teammates, not friends and the sooner both of them would stop acting unnecessarily fond of each other, the better. But Charlie was the first to say something.

„You got training today? Cassie, you sure you‘re up to that after not sleeping all night?“ Castiel wanted to kick her under the table. Of course, she worried, it was Charlie, that was what she was doing most of the time. But Charlie also had a very bad understanding of which facts were personal. And though it had never been of ill intention, that was something that really bothered Castiel.

„You couldn‘t sleep either?“ Dean asked. His voice seemed genuine and it made Castiel wonder for merely a second if his friendliness was really just an act, or if he might actually be a genuine person and they just got off on the wrong foot. But that thought lingered so far in the back of Castiel‘s head that he barley registered it there. „I was awake most night, too. Jogged trough half the town. Have you tried that?“ Dean bit down on the one half of his sandwich. He had given the other half of it to Sam, who had just told him that he was still hungry. There was tuna on it anyway and he never really liked tuna.

„No, I haven‘t.“ Castiel grunted, finally allowed to say something. „I just had a hard time falling asleep because of my tinnitus. There‘s nothing I can really do about it anyway.“

Normally, Castiel would avoid mentioning anything of this sorts while Charlie was around. She worried too much for her own good and whenever Castiel mentioned something like his tinnitus, a pitiful smile appeared on her face. And now again. She looked like Bambi and Castiel was the mother. He mentally prepared himself for the I‘m so sorry for you. This sucks. speech. Then he would tell them not worry, because it really wasn‘t that bad, right? And after all, most nights it was nearly not noticeable.

„Listen to Alan Watts.“ Dean said to Castiel‘s surprise while taking another bite of his sandwich. „He was like a philosopher in the 60s, I think. Dude got the most relaxing voice and he talks about religion and stuff, you might like it.“

„I think I‘ve heard of him before.“ Charlie smiled and she nudged Castiel under the table. There it was, the pity in her eyes she didn‘t even know was there. But Castiel smiled at her anyway.

„I wouldn‘t have taken you as a listener of philosophy.“ There was something bitter and condescending in Castiel‘s voice that he was surprised to hear himself. Dean might not dress like the most sophisticated person but it shocked him that he would stoop that low.

„Yeah, well—“ Dean cleared his throat and set down his food. „I‘m not. My little brother is listening to him sometimes. He‘s the brain of the family, you know.“ He chuckled but it left the table in an awkward silence. While Dean just wished to take back the last few words, the other boy wished that godawful roaring in his stomach would go away.

„Talking about my little brother. I need to get him home before I can come to practice. So I might be a little late, is that fine?“

„What?“ Castiel sat up straight and for the first time since Dean had sat down with them he looked at him. Maybe it was the nausea, or the lack of food, caffeine and sleep but when he looked at that face in front of him, he felt that deep rage in his stomach. „The first day of practice, you‘re already behind because you start in the middle of the year and now you wanna come late? Where the fuck do y‘all live that you have to walk him?“

Dean was taken aback by the sudden sharpness in his voice.

„They‘re staying at the Motel.“ Said Charlie, her voice being the opposite of Castiel‘s right now. „Oh, Dean, by the way.“ She pulled out her phone. „Can you maybe type in your number again? I tried to call you but the voice said that the number was unavailable. I think you like mixed up a number or something.“

„Oh, yeah, of course.“ He took the phone and welcomed the change of topic.

„I already talked to my boss, too. They will give you calls when minor things come up, and if you do good you‘ll get better paid work. It‘s all under the table though, but trust me, they‘re good people.“

He smiled, screaming inside of excitement. He had never found a job so soon, coming into a new town and as he felt his stomach grumble he was even happier about it. Under the table meant cash, and it meant cash now: Pretty much all Dean could ask for. „Thank you, Charlie. You won‘t regret recommending me.“

„I better hope not.“ She took her phone back. „Here let me text you to see if it works now.“

**Unknown Number**

_I‘m sorry Cassie is such a dick today. He‘s usually nicer._

**Dean Winchester**

_I hope youre right haha_

Dean chuckled and looked up at Charlie „Works.“

His thumb hovered over the chat with his brother. He sighed to himself and clicked it.

**Dean Winchester**

_i have to be at practice today_

_you‘re gonna have to walk home by yourself okay_

_Text me when you get home_

**The convent, 2015**

„I still can‘t believe coach practically forces me to give you „Private Lessons“. He takes on someone mid-term and then decides it‘s my job to bring them up to date.“ Castiel groaned kicking a stone that laid in front of him. The coach of the wrestling team had asked Castiel to train with Dean privately. He was good, better then some other members already, but it wasn‘t really that Coach wanted Dean to get even better. He wanted them both to be able to _work better together_. Castiel was a good captain but stubborn at times.

Dean stopped in his tracks. he had his hands buried in the pockets of his thin summer jacket. Castiel looked at him with furrowed brows. „Listen, man. I get that I acted like a dick yesterday. But if you don‘t wanna fucking do this, then we don‘t have to. I‘ll just go home and practice by myself but I honestly can‘t stand your constant bickering. Maybe you had a shit day, fine. But that‘s not my fucking fault. Either pull yourself together or tell me to go.“

Castiel must‘ve looked like a shot deer at that moment. He was frozen into place with a constant look of confusion on his face. He went trough the events of the day and had to come to the inevitable realization that he had really acted unfair. Throughout the whole training he didn‘t even bother much to include Dean into the team, or even introduce him properly. He sighed and looked down.

„Going home now would be pointless. We‘re already here.“ He pointed at the convent behind him. Dean shifted slightly on his feet, looking left and right but there were no other buildings close to them. This was just yet another reason why Castiel felt uncomfortable training with Dean at his home. They could obviously not go to his place, he lived in a Motel room. But other than Charlie no one had ever visited his home.

Most people didn‘t even know he was an orphan to begin with, and most who knew heard it in the school halls or from their parents.

And now Dean would know too. He would not only know, he would meet Jody and ask questions like Charlie did after the first time she visited. But that was different. They were younger and had known each other for months beforehand. Castiel hadn‘t really been able to grasp the situation at that age. Or maybe his perception just changed with the years. Either way he felt anxious letting anyone into his life like that. Especially a stranger.

„You live in that creepy old house? I jogged past here last night and wondered if anyone even still lived here.“

Castiel nodded, trying to smile. Sometimes he wondered the same thing, when he looked at it from the outside. It could‘ve easily been an old murder mansion in some oldschool horror movie. „It‘s a convent.“ Castiel went towards the tall entrance doors.

„Cool.“ Was all Dean said as he followed him inside. It wasn‘t too obvious, Castiel was a good actor, but Dean noticed how he had shifted in his shoes. The boy wanted to ask questions but held back.

„Jody!“ Castiel screamed trough the halls.

„She‘s in the kitchen, Castiel, no need to wake up the birds in the attic.“ A nun that passed by told him. „She got a friend with her. As do you, I see.“ She smiled at Dean who awkwardly mumbled ahello. He had never been fond of religious places, or people for that matter. Seeing monsters roaming the earth every day could cause a man‘s faith to crumble.

„I don’t think he could’ve been lying for so long...“ Said an old man from afar.

As they approached the kitchen both boys recognized the voice.

„Bobby?“ They said in union, and immediately looked at each other with furrowed eyebrows.

They went into the kitchen and the conversation between Bobby and Jody immediately died out. They both sat at the round table, with a cup between their hands and stern looks on their faces. When Dean and Castiel entered the room Jody‘s expression turned immediately fond. But she hadn‘t forgot about the morning.

„Hello, Castiel. Who‘s your friend?“

„Dean?“ They all looked at Bobby now. „What are you doing here?“

„I could ask you the same question, Bobby. Did you already get my postcard?“

„Your postcard? No, I was visiting Jody. She‘s and old friend. What are you doing here?“

Dean shrugged. „Passing trough, you know. Dad‘s on a... business trip close to here.“

Dean was a terrible liar. He didn‘t even realize that he had just given away most of the lies he had told over the past two days. Castiel looked at him surprised but even that went above Dean‘s head, as so many things did.

„How do you two know each other?“ Jody asked. She was the only one in the room who seemed calm in any sense.

„Oh, his Dad is in the same business as me. He sometimes drops his boys off at my place when he has to go away for longer.“

Now all the questions Castiel was afraid Dean would ask him, turned to questions he wanted to ask Dean. Why didn‘t they just stay with their mother?

Jody nodded understandably, it all made more sense to her than to Castiel.

„And how do you two know each other?“ Bobby asked, gesturing to the boys with a tried hand movement.

„He‘s the captain of the wrestling team and the coach wants him to get me up to date for the season.“ Seeing as that didn‘t clear up Bobby‘s confusion he added „We go to the same school.“

„Well, you two have fun practicing but don‘t destroy anything, _again_.“ Jody looked at Castiel, who rubbed the back of his neck.

Castiel was about to leave the room but Dean said one more thing „Oh, Bobby. Uhm, we stay at the Motel in town. Sammy should already be there, maybe you have time to swing by?“ The old man nodded and the first deeply true smile appeared on Dean‘s face before him and Castiel left upstairs.

Jody and Bobby said nothing until they were sure to be unheard.

„I don‘t like this Jody. First the thing with the rose and now he befriends a hunter? What if he _is_ onto something?“

Jody sighed, for dozenth time that evening. „Don‘t you think that‘s a stretch? And how should he know that boy is a hunter, Bobby?“ The old man looked down into his cup. The coffee had gone cold over an hour ago. „And as I said before, I don‘t think he even noticed what he did with the rose. It just opened and started to bloom. He didn‘t even look at it.“

„But I don‘t understand it. _I_ have his grace, Jody. He has to be _human_.“

Jody shrugged. „Maybe you left something. Would that be so bad anyway?“

„You do not want to be around angels. Now, the only reason that boy is alive is because he saved my life and made me believe he would forget everything and become mortal!“

The nun looked at him with widened eyes. „Bobby!“ She hissed. „ _That boy_ is not lying to me or you. And he saved your life, as you said. Be a little more grateful.“

The hunter pinched the bridge of his nose. „I know, Jody, I just— ugh, I just don‘t trust angels. He could‘ve done it all just to save his feathery ass. And now he ‘starts‘ to remember things? Befriends Dean and the rose thing: And all in one day?“

„He‘s a kid, Bobby. Maybe a bit peculiar in his interests but the weirdest thing he ever did until today was to try and eat a rock with peanut butter when he was 11.“ Even Bobby had to chuckle a bit and his muscles loosened up. But in the back of his head he still worried for Dean. If there even was the slightest chance Castiel could be a threat to him...He shook his head.

No. If Jody said he was a good kid, than he had to trust her on that.

„I would just really like an explanation for the rose thing.“

„Maybe it was just a coincidence and I worried for nothing, Bobby. Or have you ever heard of angels being particularly into gardening?“

——-

Dean looked outside the round bullseye in Castiel‘s room.

„You guys have a nice garden.“

„Thanks.“ Castiel muttered as he kept throwing his stuff into different corners „Sorry, I didn‘t clean. Didn‘t know anyone was coming over.“ Dean sat down in the window seal and leaned against the rounded wall of the window.

„It‘s fine.“ He laughed and watched Castiel stumble over various things that had been scattered across the floor. „It‘s fun to watch you cleaning, anyway.“

When there was no witty comeback Dean was worried for a second, that he had maybe said something wrong. But it wasn‘t that: Castiel had no comeback because he was blushing. Maybe it was because he was starting to sweat but he couldn‘t deny the pinkish glow on his cheeks and his eyes that tried their best not to fall on Dean. Against the red of his face the blue of his eyes looked more vibrant, too.

„It‘s kinda funny though. I mean, that Bobby just randomly appears here.“ Dean changed the topic for Castiel‘s sake.

„Yeah, he comes to visit maybe twice a year? I remember him coming here more often when I was younger.“

„You think him and Jody—“ Castiel stopped dead in his tracks and stared at Dean.

„No! No way! God, Jody‘s been a nun since she was 19.“

Dean shrugged. „Bobby just seemed a little tense, never seen him like that before.“

 _He’s always like that_ , when he’s here, Castiel thought and immediately regretted it.

„And he‘s like an old family friend of yours?“ Castiel was finally done cleaning up, the best he could anyway, and sat down on his bed. He crossed his legs and faced Dean, who still halfway laid down in his window seal.

„Yeah, I think my Mom and him were really close. I cant imagine my Dad ever liking him, anyway.“ A saddened grin made its way across his lips. „John, my Dad you know, well, he‘s not really the kind of guy to have many friends. I think Bobby just still talks to him, because he wants to have me and Sammy around.“ He shrugged and looked trough the window again. The sky was dipped in a beautiful soft blue but the clouds that peaked from the horizon looked like they had been set on fire.

He had dragged his knees closer to his body. Dean wasn‘t used to talking even half as open about his family as he was at this very moment. It wasn‘t necessarily like that, because he didn‘t want anybody to know him better. It was rather the deeply rooted fear, that if anyone should ever know him better, they might end up using it all against him. How they would go about that?, he never thought of that but it was clear, wasn‘t it? To trust people meant giving them the opportunity to hurt you . Dean didn‘t fear anyone knowing him better. He was afraid that emotional vulnerability would indefinitely lead to emotional pain. Even if he would never admit it to that.

Dean might have been a good fighter, he knew how to handle a broken nose, but a broken heart or abused trust? It left him helpless.

„And John, he just talks to Bobby, so he can leave us there every now and then, when he‘s staying away for longer.“ He laughed at himself and it wasn‘t an untruthful laugh at that. He really found it funny. His eyes glowed a little bit brighter, as he spoke, and there laid not distant or hidden emotions in his face, that Castiel could‘ve made out. He really believed in what he said to be funny. It worried the other boy.

„And what about your mom? Couldn‘t you stay with her then?“ Castiel had to ask. The unknown made him loose his mind and he couldn‘t shake the question from his head. But as Dean looked away again and outside into the garden, the other boy regretted ever opening the mouth of his. „Sorry, it‘s none of my business anyway, right?“ He put it off with a gesture of his hand and got up to roll his office chair out of the way. If they were really gonna practice in this room, they needed more space.

„No, not it‘s fine. Really.“ Dean cleared his throat and his gaze slowly wandered back to Castiel, who was yet again occupied with the task of moving everything, that was standing in the way, about. To his own surprise a small grin appeared on his face, looking at the scene beforehand. But it soon faded away as he laid the words he was about to say together in his mind.

„Our mother died when we were little. Ever since then it always just had been the three of us, you know? I would feel kind of bad too, if we moved at Bobby‘s, for example. He offered that more times now than I can count. But it would just feel wrong to leave John by himself. And what about you?“

Castiel was just dragging his desk a little closer to the wall as Dean asked that. He stopped his movements and looked up. The sun began to set in the background and only a few rays found their way trough the window to land on Dean. Until now he had never paid close attention to the boy‘s facial features but now he saw that a few freckles scattered around his tanned nose.

„What about me?“ Dean scoffed and jumped off of the window seal. He stood inside the room, hands stemmed against his hips. He had stood the same way after his try out had ended and Castiel had started to criticize him.

„C‘mon, Cas. Or do you really want to tell me that Jody is your mother and what — God your father? Because, excuse me, but I wouldn‘t believe you, if you told me you‘re the reincarnation of Jesus.“ Dean laughed at his own joke and even though Castiel would never admit to it the corners of his own mouth peaked up a little, too. But he rolled his eyes, to overplay it. „So yes. What about you?“

„My parents—“ He still felt wrong to call them that and he tried his best not to think about this morning. „They died too, when I was young. The convent took me in and Jody practically raised me.“ He shrugged as if his words weren‘t of any importance and waited for Dean‘s reaction. But there was not big speech about ‚the way life plays out sometimes‘ or about how sorry he felt for him but that at least he had a good life now, right?

Instead Dean just nodded. „Well, here‘s to fucked up childhoods, I‘d say.“ He rubbed his hands together and stepped forward a bit into the middle of the room. „If I had a drink I‘d give a toast...but whatever. How about we just start practice? Coach said you should show me some defensive stances?“

„Right, yes, exactly. So, take in the same position as me and shift—“

For the rest of the night the two of them did not talk about the serious matters of life.


	11. You don’t know who’s really by your side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have to leave the city of your comfort,  
> And go into the wilderness of your intuition.  
> What you’ll discover will be wonderful,   
> What you’ll discover will be yourself.
> 
> — Alan Alda

_**CHAPTER EIGHT** _

_**You don’t know who’s really by your side** _

**Their motel room, late April 2015**

When Dean made his way up the crooked stairs to their motel room, his gaze automatically fell onto the wide parking lot beneath. He looked out for the black Impala, the only thing about his old life that was still around and held some good memories. It wasn‘t there and an unexpected wave of relief rushed over him. Maybe it was for the best that they had a few days to themselves. Or weeks... or months. He sighed and remembered something John said a few days before they got to town. A family needs distance. Sam had nodded eagerly, they have had one of their bigger fights that day. Dean had sat on the passengers seat and looked out the window. He wanted to say something but it wouldn‘t have been in agreement, so he swallowed his words.

With every step he took, his bones began to hurt more and more. Castiel had landed a few good hits, when he wasn‘t covering his sides properly. Apparently his teaching method was learning or pain. Dean chuckled dryly. He was good at moving out of the way, very, very good. Because when he was out in the field with John there was no option of „taking a hit“. He never learned any defensive or protective stances because every hit could mean his death, he wasn‘t allowed to get hit. But that was different in wrestling. „You always get hit.“ Cas had said. „It‘s how you handle it, that matters.“

Sam had texted him around two hours ago, that he had made it home save, and another hour later, that Bobby was with him now. He heard the voices coming from the Motel room as he approached it and a warm smile laid on his lips. Bobby was more of a father to them, than John had ever been, but Dean had never said that, never even thought it. Even with everything wrong with John, that man was still someone he looked up to. And a good father. (Dean hadn‘t noticed yet that he subconsciously started to call him John instead of Dad, when talking to other people). But if he would‘ve been true to himself, he would‘ve admitted that Bobby was the better parent, now matter how often John would tell him, drunkenly, that the only reason Bobby liked them was, that they were his substitute children.

Bobby and Sam sat at the table, Sam had taken the broken chair. Both greeted him with a smile, Sam‘s mouth was too full to say anything, salad sauce smeared all over his lips.

„How was the practice?“ Singer asked and there was an unusual interest in the way he asked.

„Good. Cas is a good captain.“ He leaned against the kitchen counter, since there was no chair left to take. „It‘s funny how we just randomly meet, isn‘t it?“

Bobby nodded. „Can‘t get a minute to myself.“ He scoffed but with s smile. „Did Novak act weird?“

„Who?“

„Novak, his last name. What you call him? Cas?“

„Uhm, no, he was a bit touchy in school today but probably just had a bad night, you know. Tinnitus keeping him awake.“ Dean shrugged. His instinct was to look inside the fridge, but he remembered that there was nothing really in it, so he stopped himself. Instead he made his way over to his bed and sat down on the edge. „Why do you ask?“

„Jody was worried, that‘s all.“ He lied but Dean took it without further question. „So, John left again?“

Sam looked up from his bowl and between the two of them. Whenever Bobby talked about their Dad is was never good. And Dean, who always jumped to John‘s support would get mad at the old man for caring. And Sam was just caught in the middle of it.

„Yeah, he caught a job not far away, he said, and didn‘t want to have us with him. I guess, he thinks it‘s too dangerous.“ Bobby shook his head with a sad laugh and Dean glared at him. He hated it, when the old man was so condescending.

„Why didn‘t he drop you off at mine like he always does, when he thinks you two will get in the way?“

„He doesn‘t think that, he‘s afraid we get killed, Bobby, give the man a break. And we haven‘t been to a school in a bit and this one—“ He pointed at Sam. „—was gettin desperate. So I looked for school‘s in the area and this one was the only one to take us in.“

Bobby gritted his teeth, for Sam‘s sake he wouldn‘t say what he was thinking. _Your Dad doesn‘t care what the fuck happens to you or do you think he would leave you alone in a dirty Motel, if he did? Maybe he just keeps you around for his own moral, who knows? But not because he cares, Dean, stop protecting him. To him you‘re nothing but a tool, that he doesn‘t wanna throw away in case it gets useful in the future. How much money do you drag to him, huh? And he never fucking lifts a finger. Just move to me already, the rooms are free. I got running water, kid, it‘s even warm. Why don‘t you want that?_

„Do you know how long you stay?“

Dean shook his head. „I was going to ask the receptionist for how far in advance he paid.“ Bobby nodded, and looked back at Sam.

„Let‘s talk outside for a bit.“

Dean got up with a grunt. He was wearing nothing but a T-Shirt yet the mild April breeze was gentle on his skin and he welcomed the fresh air. He was still sweaty from the training and began to smell.

Bobby closed the door behind them. He still saw Sam getting up, his bowl between his hands, and moving towards the TV. Scooby Doo sounds began to play in the background and were drowned out a bit when the door fell shut.

„What is it, Bobby? I don‘t want to have this conversation again.“

Bobby sighed. „It‘s not that, Dean. You warded the room?“ Dean nodded at the worry in his voice. „Okay. I need to tell you something. What your father is hunting right now, it‘s something I think you don‘t know of yet. A few days ago, maybe ten or so, he asked me for some protection spells, I think he‘s hunting angels.“

„Angels? Bobby—“ He scoffed „—there‘s no thing like-“

„Yes, there is. Shut up and listen to me, for once.“ He fumbled in his pockets and handed Dean a few crumbled papers, that had copies of old books on them. „They haven‘t been around for over a decade. I don‘t know why they‘re back. But if they’re here, or, rather, in the area, you need to have these. That‘s the most important things you need to know. Protection, how to trap them...“ Bobby had brought the copies for Jody but she refused to take them. She blindly trusted that Castiel was good and she didn‘t need to know how to hurt him in any way. She was rather upset at Bobby even suggesting it.

Dean looked at the crumbled papers between his fingers. „And how do I kill them?“

„You need special blades, from heaven. They‘re rare, I lost mine several years ago. I will ask a few hunters if they have any to give up and get to you, but I doubt anyone will be up to it. So just...“ Bobby trembling fingers pressed the papers deeper into Dean‘s hands and the boy‘s eyes looked up into the worried ones of Singer. The old man’s hands were rough and wrinkly, Dean saw brown spots on Bobby’s skin. „Just fucking draw these things all over the place, okay? I don‘t know what your father is up to but when he comes back, text me. I‘ll try my best to get a hold of him myself, too.“

Dean nodded eagerly, turning his eyes back to studying the papers. He had never seen runes and sigils like these, they were more complicated than any others. His mind was still processing the whole angel thing.

„It never means anything good, when angels are on Earth. The last time, they tried to start something awful.“

„How did you stop them?“

„We didn‘t, not really, anyway. They just vanished.” Bobby fished for something in his back pocket. „Take this too.“ He handed Dean all the cash that he had in his wallet. „It‘s not much, but my guess is that you need it. John never leaves you much.“

„Bobby, I can‘t—“

„You can, and you will.“ He pressed the money into his hands when Dean didn‘t want to take it. It was a little less than $200. „Buy your brother in there some fucking food. Kid looks like he‘s gonna be dragged away by the next breeze.“

Dean smiled half-heartedly and Bobby gave him a pat on the back. „You‘re doing a good job, kid. Now let‘s get back in there or I‘ll freeze to death.“

—-

Later that night Dean couldn’t fall asleep. He was tossing and turning underneath the thin bedsheets. Sam had already fallen asleep a few hours ago, snuggling up into the warmth of his blanket. (They always carried an extra one, just in case it gets too cold or they have to sleep inside the car)

Dean got up and the loss of warmth around his legs, and the cold floor beneath his bare feet, made him shiver. He scrambled in the closet, searching for a thicker sweatshirt. He didn’t own many. As he stood up again one of the new sigils smiled in his face. Bobby had helped him cover the room, at Sam’s request they had hid them the best they could. Under the table, behind the curtains, behind the back of the bed. Seeing the sigil sent a shiver down his spine and he turned away.

They creeped him out, something about them was so otherworldly that it made him want to stay away from them as far as possible. He saw that the window was halfway open and a cold breeze had found its way into the room. Dean closed it and sat down on his bet, dragging the sheets over his cold body. They suddenly felt warmer but in a strange way still as cold, neither soft nor welcoming. He sighed and dragged them up to under his nose.

Everything was quiet as he noticed the familiar ring in his ears again and he thought about what he had told Castiel. Listen to Alan Watts, Dean scoffed to himself. He had sounded ridiculous. He wondered how Alan Watts would’ve felt knowing that angels were real, real but evil.

Dean turned around again. He was never much of a believer, there was too much gruesome violence in this world for there to be a God, he thought. But now that he knew of angels and heaven, that must mean there is a God, too. And one that either does a piss poor job or has a twisted sense of humor. Dean turned onto his back and sighed, his head turned over to Sam, who rested peacefully.

Suddenly, a bright light popped up as his phone vibrated. His heart sunk into his chest before he realized what it has been and he reached for it.

**[1:45 am]**

**Unknown Number**

_Hey, this is Castiel. I had Charlie give me your number, I hope that was okay._

_I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for acting like a total dick_

_I wasn’t just a bad captain, I was overall an asshole to you_

_I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot_

**Dean Winchester**

_hey it’s okay man don’t beat yourself up we all got our days_

_and you care about your team, you’re protective i get that so no worries_

_fresh start, I’d say_

**[1:56 am]**

**Castiel Novak**

_Fresh start sounds good. And don’t think I don’t want you in our team,_

_even now you’re one of our best fighters._

**[2:06 am]**

_If you’re still awake could you maybe tell me the name of that philosopher again?_

**Dean Winchester**

_Alan Watts._

_Can’t sleep either?_

**Castiel Novak**

_More or less._

_And thank you._

**Dean Winchester**

_No problems._

Dean looked at his phone until the little tick plopped up, that told him Castiel had read his message. And he waited a bit longer for the typing indicator to show up too, but it never did. He let his phone fall down next to him on the mattress, and he turned around again. The weird fabric of the sheets started to shift uncomfortably on his skin.

He wondered what Castiel would do, if he knew that angels were real.

——

Dean woke up at seven am to the piercing alarm tone that was coming from Sam’s phone. While his younger brother was already jumping up, disappearing into the bathroom, Dean was still trying to open his eyes. His neck hurt and when he snapped it to the right a loud cracking sound echoed trough his ear.

It was cold in the room, the sharp night breeze had found its way underneath the door, even after he had closed the window. When Dean sat up straight, and the sheets sank down on his arms, it send a shiver down his spine, but that the boy continuously tried to ignore. Their heater was probably broken.

There were several new messages on his phone.

**[3:12 am]**

**Castiel**

_I listened to some videos on YouTube they were nice_

_Still wouldn’t have taken you for the philosophical kind_

**[4:02 am]**

**John Winchester**

_I’m back 23 July_

**[5:12 am]**

**Charlie**

_I just got to work and there’s an error in room 321_

_Something wrong with the sink, you think you can fix that?_

_I’m at the reception so just swing by_

**[6:46 am]**

**Bobby**

_the postcard arrived. Wouldn’t have thought you’d keep that in mind._

He rubbed his eyes and sighed, deciding to ignore them all for now, except Charlie’s. The water stopped running in the bathroom and Sam got out again, fully dressed already. “Do you have to be at school early?”

“Nope.” He hopped towards the fridge, there was something easy in the way he walked and Dean smiled softly, getting up himself. “Just excited for today. Eileen is gonna introduce me to the book club.” He beamed.

“Eileen, huh?” Dean was washing his face and it muffled his words. Sam still rolled his eyes at the tone, nothing fully well what Dean was suggesting. Sam sat down with his cereal bowl.

“Yeah, she’s nice. And uhm, could I maybe drive to school with her? Her parents always drive her there ‘cause they live outside of town and she offered that they could pick me up. She just texted me, asking if that’s still okay.”

Dean stopped the water from running and sighed, coming out of the bathroom. “Sammy, I don’t even kno-“

“Her Mom is a lawyer and her Dad a doctor! She told me they have a really nice car and I’m sure you can talk to them. Dean, please?” His eyes beamed with excitement, Dean let his head fall down, in defeat.

“Fine.”

Not even ten minutes later they stood on the parking lot, waiting for the car to pull up. Dean was looking for any expensive looking cars, that stood out, and when the pitch black Volkswagen turned around the corner and stared towards them he knew immediately that it was them.

A young girl opened the door to the backseat while the man in the passenger seat let the window down.

“Hello, sir. Ma’am.” He nodded toward them. “My name’s Dean, Sam’s brother I’m just checking that he gets to school safe.” He smiled.

“You boys live in the Motel?” The woman asked with a stern look on her face.

“No, ma’am, only next to it. The parking lot here is just convenient, plus I work here.” The girl’s father nodded in agreement. “Thank you for taking Sammy with you.”The two of them snickered in the backseats. “Hope it isn’t any inconvenience?”

“Oh, no, not at all.” The woman smiled brightly. “We always pick up some kids since we got this much space in the car.”

“That’s nice of you.” Dean smiled with his hands in his pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet. “Well, uhm, have a nice day and thank you again. And remember your good manners, Sammy.” The engine started again and the car drove off, he had still seen Sam rolling his eyes.

With slightly lowered shoulders he made his way toward the reception, where Charlie greeted him with a huge smile on her bright, red lips. “Good morning, buttercup.” She laughed and Dean couldn’t help but lighten up a bit.

“I got your text. Room 321?” He said. “Don’t you have school soon?”

“Oh, yeah, but the first two periods off, like you.“ She made her way from behind the counter and opened a crooked door in the corner of the room, dragging out a tool box. It made a dull thud when she heaved it onto the counter. “And uh, they probably just clogged it. Shouldn’t be a big problem.” She placed the key to the room onto the kit and smiled again.

Dean took it in his hands but then stopped. “Do you have like any, special clothes?”

“Oh, yeah, shit.” She ran back to the room and got out an old, grey overall, which was way too big for Dean. “Do you need anything more?”

He simply put on the clothes above the ones he was already wearing. “Not for this, no. But uhm, could you maybe check for how long the room is paid for?”

She furrowed her eyebrows but typed something into the computer. “Uhm, 242 was rented by John Winchester for another, oh—for another three days.” She smiled again but the corners of her mouth dropped dead when she saw the faceless expression on Dean.

“Uhm, is that wrong?” He shook himself awake again and cleared his throat slightly.

“Yeah, yeah it is, uhm, how much is that room per day?” He tried to stay calm when in his mind he wanted nothing more but to scream. They would stay in this town for little over three months and John didn’t even pay for the whole duration of their stay, he didn’t even mention anything about it to Dean. And he had merely left them a total of $250.

“It’s only $20.” She looked worried now and her voice, even though still filled with questions, was calmer now. “Do you need to stay longer?” The pity in her voice got too much for Dean and he put on a smile.

“Oh, yes! That’d be great, uh, maybe for another ten days? Construction work is a bitch.” He added, chuckling, remembering the old lie that the had told her a few days ago.

“That’d be $200 then.” The cash register clinked.

With a heavy heart Dean gave her the money Bobby had forced into his hands the night before. And because it wasn’t quite enough he dug around in his jacket pocket for an extra ten bucks that were still left there from buying groceries. Then he took the rusty tool box, and the key and made his way towards room 242.

After he was gone Charlie looked back into the file that was open on the computer. John Winchester had rented one room with two beds. But wouldn’t there be three of them? She furrowed her eyebrows but dismissed it for now.


	12. What would you do, if you could just start over?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m actually starting to like more and more people,  
> Who have convictions that are unpopular.
> 
> — Bono

_**CHAPTER NINE** _

_**What would you do, if you could just start over?** _

**The small town in Kansas, early May 2015**

Dean got up from their table and waved a small good-bye to Charlie and Castiel. He walked over to Sam and they left into the halls with a small nod towards their table. As soon as they had left the cafeteria Charlie leaped over the table to get closer to Castiel.

“You like him.” She smirked. “You have those soap-opera dreamy eyes on you.”

Castiel kicked her under the table and she fell back into her seat. “Charlie.” He whispered with a certain amount of urgency to it. “Shut up.”

The redhead just laughed it off and gave her friend a soft smile, together with another nudge under the table. Castiel couldn’t help but smile softly, too. The way her laugh could cheer up a room was similar to how Jody worked her wonders.

“Anyway—“ She fully leaned back, tightening the clean pony tail on her head. “I told you how he paid for their Motel room, right?”

Castiel nodded, putting a french fry in his mouth. “And that he works as a ‘somewhat-mechanic’ as you so nicely put it.” Castiel smirked a little at his own remark but Charlie just rolled her eyes a little and stayed stern otherwise. It put a feeling of uneasiness into him and he shifted on his chair, leaning forward.

“Well, he payed for another ten days yesterday night.”

Castiel just shrugged. “So what? Construction on their house probably takes longer than they expected.” He lied, remembering the conversation Dean and him had, when they first had practiced together back in the convent. Castiel still didn’t have the chance to talk more about that with Dean. It was a sensitive topic and not easy to bring up, and they seemed to never get a moment to themselves since then. They would meet again for practice later that day and Castiel made a mental note to ask Dean about the duration of their stay. Because if his father really just was on a business trip nearby then what would happen if he comes back?

“Oh God, Cassie!” Charlie scoffed. “You don’t seriously buy that crap, do you? Have you even seen any construction in town? I haven’t. And he always pays in cash, the dude who rented the room paid in cash. He says he’s staying with their father but they only rented a two-bed-room and there’s no other room rented on that name. Plus I haven’t even seen him with any people that could be his parents.” She sighed after her rant and crossed her arms. Castiel had stopped eating and he looked towards the door, where Dean had left not long ago. “I haven’t seen him with anyone that isn’t us or his brother, actually.” She added quietly.

Castiel coughed. “So what’s your theory?”

“I don’t have one.” She responded quickly. “That’s what bothers me.”

“You said their Dad rented the room the first time?” She nodded. “Well, maybe he’s staying at their house then? Working construction? Or he’s just out of town.”

“And leaves his sons here alone? In a Motel? Parent of the year award, coming right up,” She scoffed but Castiel just shrugged.

“How much is he paying for the room?”

“$200 for ten days. He paid that twice now.”

“And how much is he earning from that job?”

Charlie shook her head in thought, exhaling. “Man, not much. I could only call him three times ‘til now. So 30 bucks.” She scratched her head. “I guess, he gets money from somewhere, right? So that’s good. I just don’t know, some things seem off.”

Castiel put another french fry in his mouth. “I know what you mean, but it’s none of our business, right? He’d tell us if he wanted to do. And remember we only know him for like two weeks.”

Charlie nodded but she didn’t seem quite satisfied. She sighed one las time and tried to dismiss the topic with that, scratch it out of her head for the time being. It worked semi-well. “So, go on and tell me about that crush of yours.” She smirked.

“Remember we only know him for like two weeks.” Castiel repeated himself. Charlie tilted her head in disappointment “I don’t know what you want me to say here, Charles. I’m not sure it’s a crush, anyway. We can talk really easily and we see each other a lot, same schedule, training, lunch break. Stuff like that.” He moved his shoulders as if to say _I don’t know_

“Fine. I’ll give this round to you. But just know, he seems like a good guy.”

Castiel smiled in agreement. “Yeah, he does.”

**[1:12 pm]**

**Castiel Novak**

_How about practice today at five?_

**Dean Winchester**

_Sounds good._

_Is your place okay?_

**Castiel Novak**

_Yeah._

_Unless we want to practice in the parking lot at your place_

**Dean Winchester**

_Your place it is._

_Looking forward to it :)_

**[4:56 pm]**

**Dean Winchester**

_Uhm, is there like a bell?_

_Or do I knock?_

_Do I pray to God so he opens the doors for me?_

_Are there magic words?_

_A hidden trap door?_

_[typing indicator]_

“Please stop texting me.” Castiel opened the entrance doors, where Dean stood, staring at his phone.

“The next one would’ve been really funny.” 

“I’m sure it would’ve been.” Castiel rolled his eyes and stepped aside to let Dean in. He looked around as if it was the first time he’s entered the building. It all still was very foreign and strange to him. His eyes wandered up and down on the tall walls, gazing over the few paintings that were hung up. He looked back at Castiel when the doors well shut again with a loud thud. “We can practice outside today. I moved the furniture around a bit so we got more space.” Castiel led the way as Dean followed.

They came into the kitchen and Dean still hasn’t said a word. “You’re so quiet today. Is everything okay?” Dean snapped out of his trance and walked trough the back door that led from the kitchen to the wide garden.

“Oh, yeah. No, I’m fine.” He smiled. “I never been to a convent, you know? Never knew this is how they looked like. I mean, I’ve been _here_ before, of course, but I didn’t really look around.”

“What did you imagine them to look like?” Castiel chuckled, taking of his shoes before stepping onto the trainings map that was laid out on the grass. “Bunch of altars and prayer rooms?”

“More or less.”

“Well, you’re not far off. Oh, and about that, the Evening Prayer starts around six and Jody asked us to take a pause then, you know, so we’re not too loud. We’re gonna hear the bells then.”

Dean nodded and they began to practice. He felt a little tipsy on his feet but to him that was nothing to worry about. But to Castiel his stance was off, his reaction behind and sloppy like over-cooked noodles. The bells of the convent rang not even forty minutes into their practice as the sun began to set. Dean let himself fall onto the mat, panting.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Castiel was still standing, barley out of breath or close to falling down. “You sure you’re not sick or something?”

Dean shook his head, unable to speak and searched for his water bottle, taking big gulps. Castiel could hear him downing the cold water even over the droning bell sounds. Over the pressure on Dean’s ears his tinnitus kicked in and he finally just let himself fall onto his back, looking at the sky. “I just need a break.” He breathed out.

Castiel sighed and sat down next to him and looked at his teammate. Dean’s face was bright red and pale at the same time. The boy took in long, deep breaths as he kept squeezing his eyes shut to avoid sweat drops falling into them. “They’re gonna pray for maybe twenty minutes. But we can just call it a day, Dean. You seem exhausted enough.”

Dean sat up straight and for a second the world around him spun and his stomach turned into the different direction. There were black spots in his field of sight but he breathed trough them, not closing his eyes. “No, it’s gonna be fine I just need to drink more.” His hands was shaking when he reached for the water bottle again.

“Okay, then I’m going to word this differently since you’re too stubborn. Practice is over, Dean. You’re not up to it.” The other boy’s expression fell down and he looked at Castiel with big eyes. Against the red of his pulsing face the green of his eyes stood out stronger. There laid a haze of anger above them, that clouded their color.

“Dude! Just because I’m a bit out of breath?”

Castiel rolled his eyes and grunted. “No, because I’m worried you’re gonna pass out, if we keep going. You look like you haven’t eaten in days and you’re shaking, your stance is off, your concentration is shit and there’s no resistance when I’m hitting you.” Castiel could see Dean’s jaw muscles clenching and he looked down again, avoiding eye contact. “Dean, if something is wrong you can tell me. As your captain and your friend I care about your health.”

Dean scoffed and looked up. There was a weak smile on his lips, his panting had calmed down a bit. “I hate chick-flicks.” Castiel’s expression fell from furrowed eyebrows to shaking his head in disbelieve with a smile on his lips.

“Asshole.”

Dean smiled proudly and took another rip of his water. “Don’t you have to go and join them?” He pointed towards the convent.

“No, I’m not a nun. And Jody never forces me to do any of this with them.” Dean nodded absently.

“Can I ask you something about that?”

“Yeah, of course. If I can ask you something then too.”

The Winchester contemplated for a second before he nodded. “Fine.” He said with an easy expression on his face. “I’ll go first. Do you think you’d be religious if you didn’t grow up here.”

“Yes. Why are you so easily exhausted today.”

“I haven’t eaten since yesterday night. Why do you think you’d be religious?”

“My family from before I got here, they were religious too. That’s where I have the necklace from. Why haven’t you eaten anything?”

“We’re short on money at the moment and my brother needs the food more. How did your family pass away?” Castiel stopped for a moment. Dean opened his mouth, ready to tell him an apology when Castiel started to talk again.

“They were murdered. I don’t really remember that, though. Or anything from that life. Why did you lie to Charlie about your Dad building a house here?” Now Dean stopped talking for a second.

“I— I didn’t lie. What are you talking about?” He laughed nervously.

“Well, you told me that your Dad was on a business trip somewhere in the area and that you were just passing trough. And you keep re-renting the same Motel room. Charlie told me.” Dean swallowed hardly. He never liked to be truthful about these things, and even know, when he wanted to tell Castiel the truth, because the boy deserved it, he simply couldn’t. There were too many things that he wasn’t allowed to say. “Dude, come one. I told you nothing but the truth. Don’t you think you owe me the same?”

“Have you told Charlie any of this?”

“No, of course not. I wanted to talk with you about it first.”

“My Dad really is on a business trip in the area. For a few months at least. He comes back on the 23rd off July. Until then Sammy and I stay in the Motel so we can at least go to school here, you know? But John hasn’t paid for the room in full, so I have to keep re-renting it every few days because I can’t afford to pay for it in a whole.”

“You don’t even have money to buy enough food but you can rent a $20 room for ten days every ten days?”

“Well, having somewhere to live is slightly more important, you know. And the thing is I don’t even have the money for that anymore. I got like 60 bucks to my name. The job at the Motel isn’ really full time.”

Castiel watched Dean play with the etiquette of his water bottle. There was a moment of silence where the both of them took in everything that has been said. Dean felt, in a sense, smaller but also lighter, having shared the problems that had build up over the past two weeks with someone.

“Why don’t you call child services?” Castiel asked quietly, Dean could barley here him. His head didn’t jolt up in anger or dismay. Instead he kept playing with the small paper between his finger.

“I can’t. There’s too many reasons why I can’t. John loves us, no matter what anyone says, _I know_ he loves us. And they would take us away from him. And they would split up me and Sam. I’m 18 in a few months, what would happen then? He’d come into a strange household? And John would hate me for destroying the family.” He felt the tears brimming in his eyes as his voice continued to tremble. He pushed them away with the palm of his hand and looked up for the first time. “Fuck, man. Whatever, right? It’s just a few more years and Sam’s going to be 18 too. Then he can piss off to medical school somewhere and get a life.” He smiled, trying to get Castiel to losen up too but he wouldn’t butch.

“If you want, I can ask Jody if she needs a repairman for the house. You see how old it is and she could use a hand.” Dean was about to shake his head no. “And don’t be too proud to accept help.”

The bells chimed and Castiel got up to his feet again. “Prayer’s over. Let’s get inside, it’s getting cold and I’m getting hungry anyway. Jody will want you to stay for Dinner.”


	13. I struggle, so I am. A perfect man. Apart from my strive for ...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m just a flawed man.  
> Man, I fucked up.  
> Like so many others I just never thought I would
> 
> -Ben Haggerty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See the notes at the end of the chapter for potential trigger warning :)

_**CHAPTER TEN** _

_**I struggle, so I am. A perfect man. Apart from my strive for ...** _

**The Motel room, early May 2015**

Sam happily dug into the left over casserole, that Jody had forced into Dean’s hands. Dean hated accepting any kind of help but Jody was the type of woman to be persistent. He watched his little brother chewing down on a big piece of broccoli. “How was your book club today?”

“Amazing. Eileen gave me her copy of Good Omens, It’s really funny.”

“What’s it about?” Dean tried his best to show interest. And of course, he was interested, yes. The way every big brother is interested in the things their little brother does. Books just weren’t Dean’s thing, he never really found one he liked, anyway.

“I don’t think you’d like it.” And Sam would’ve been right. Dean hadn’t yet found a genre he really enjoyed but an apocalyptic comedy drama about angels, demons and Armageddon surely wasn’t it.

“Mhm. Tell me more.” He looked at his phone and scrolled trough his chats. His mind was anywhere but with the conversation. He had texted Charlie, even before he came to Castiel, if there were any new jobs for him to take. But no answers yet. And their money would run out real soon, if he wouldn’t act now. Dean had thought about getting a normal job, like the other kids, at a restaurant or as a cashier. But for these types of jobs you’d need a valid address, and the ones on his faked IDs never checked out with the places they actually lived at. And even if they wouldn’t care about his address, Dean would only get paid the month after he started. And he couldn’t waste his time working somewhere like that, when he could use the time to work jobs like the one had now. Where he got paid in cash and as soon as he finished. And that was the other thing about getting a “real” job: Dean was pretty sure they didn’t even have a real bank account.

“— so then I screamed at the top of my lungs and got suspended for singing that one Cher song. You sometimes listen to that under the shower, right?”

“Sounds interesting, mhm.”

“Okay, Dean, get off your phone.” Dean looked up a bit staggered and closed his chats. Sam sat there, leaning over his plate, his arms folded on the table. “You’ve been this uninterested for weeks now.”

Dean sighed and put his phone on the table. He didn’t notice how far down he had slidden on his chair and he sat up straight, the broken leg squeaked a little as he moved. “I’m sorry, Sammy. Tell me again, what’s the book about?”

“That’s not what this is about! Oh my God, you’re really not listening to me are you?”

“Hey, come on, that’s unfair. I’m—“

“No, it’s bullshit, Dean. You’re not listening to me, Dad’s not listening to me. I’m sick of this.” Sam didn’t even finish his sentence when Dean’s words began to overlap with his.

“Dad’s working hard, he’s _saving_ people, cut him some slack—“

“And of course, you’re taking his side!” Sam scoffed while Dean continued his monologue about how Sam wasn’t doing John right. After all, he did his best, right? He was doing good. But it was nothing that Sam hadn’t heard enough of already.

“DEAN!” He practically screamed, when his brother wouldn’t stop talking. “Shut up, Dean, please!” There were tears brimming in his eyes but Sam would be dammed if he’d let them out now. “God, you’re so fucking _delusional_. Can’t you see that Dad doesn’t fucking care? He pisses off every few weeks and you still take his side! He’s saving people, great, but what about us! We’re his children!”

Dean’s eyes couldn’t focus on anything and they jumped around from left to right. Dean was left speechless for a second, while Sam caught his breath again. He waited for an answer, a comeback, anything. And Dean’s eyes kept switching trough the room from left to right, right to left, as if the answers were written in the air. He clenched his jaw and even before he spoke he knew that his voice would be small and weak. “But...But, Sammy, he _saves_ lives.” He sounded like a child.

That was it for Sam. He jumped off of his chair and stomped towards the small closet. Dean’s voice was stronger now as he tried to explain what he meant, while Sam aggressively jammed some of his clothes into a training bag. “Sam, I don’t like that he’s never here, too. But, we will survive, these people wouldn’t. They would die!”

“You don’t get it.” Sam scoffed, grabbing the plastic bag with his toothbrush from the bathroom.

“No, I don’t, Sam. These people need him. But we’re fine.”

“ **I’M NOT** , Dean.” His voice broke, screaming his brother’s name like that. Dean heard the lump in his throat and it was coated with bitter, pure anger. “I’m _not_ fine! You’re _NOT_ fine. **_THIS_** —“ He gestured around widely. “— _is not_ **_fine_**.” When he was done screaming he looked at his older brother for a second longer. Dean didn’t move from his seat but just stared at Sam, who had tears falling from his eyes, silently. When the older brother didn’t say anything, Sam just shook his head slightly and turned back around to his training bag.

“I’m going to stay at Eileen’s. They’re gonna pick me up here soon. I’ll text you her mom’s number.” His voice was calmer now but it shocked Dean how emptied it was of emotion. Sam stomped out the room and slammed the door shut.

Leaving Dean in the sudden silence of the small Motel room, alone. The weak light above him flickered gently. He stared at nothing, not moving for a while as if he was frozen on the spot. His phone buzzed in the silence but he didn’t even flinch. With a smooth movement he picked it up from the table and looked at it. It buzzed again.

**[7:32 pm]**

**Sam Winchester**

_(202)-555-0132_

**Charlie**

_It’s a total shit job so no worries if u don’t wanna do it but the toilet in 378 broke. You up to it?_

Dean locked his phone again, got up, turned the lights off, took the room keys and went outside. He didn’t see Sam standing anywhere as he made his way down the steel stairs to the reception. Charlie leaned above the counter with the TV remote in her hand. She was twirling her hair between her manicured fingers and looked at the screen that hung above the door. Dean heard the news reporter’s voice even before he went inside. “ _US Court finds NSA phone records excessive. Congress never authorized the recording and keeping of phone records of millions US citizens. Therefore the National Security Agency’s actions were illegal, though that did not change the fact, that the three-judge-panel of the 2nd US Circuit Court allows the Agency to continue their program. Judge Lynch states that the ‘knowledge of the program was intentionally kept to a minimum, both within Congress and among the public.’ The program was secret until whistleblower Edward Snowden leaked the information two years ago.”_

Charlie turned the volume down when she saw Dean approaching behind the glass doors. She stood up straight and tucked the strand of hair behind her ear. She had cut herself bangs earlier that day, the rest of her hair was in a bun, a yellow bandana wrapped around her head to separate the bangs more sharply. The yellow matched that of her uniform.

“Nice haircut.” Dean smiled but he could feel that his eyes stayed dull. He hoped Charlie would mistake his watery eyes for a happy glowing when he laughed. “Suits you well. The whole 50s style.”

“Thank you, sweetie.” She beamed and Dean wondered if Charlie had ever been in a bad mood even once in her life. She handed him the storeroom key and he took out his usual coveralls, being thankful for the long sleeves at last. He took the small tool kit and plumbing equipment with him. The pair of yellow rubber gloves were swung over his shoulder.

Charlie threw him a pitied smile when she laid the key for room 378 on the desk. Dean took it, dismissing her glance with a few eyebrow movements. He turned and leaned back against the counter, looking at the news report. They were showing videos of the court now.

“Stuff like this, huh?” Said Charlie, leaning forward onto the counter again. She scrunched her nose a bit at the smell coming from the coverall. “Makes you wonder what else they’re hiding, doesn’t it?”

Dean just nodded. “I’m not much into politics but this is just fucked up. Tis’s why my Dad uses burner phones. I don’t even wanna know what else they’re keeping from us.”

“Oh, I want to know, though! I bet it’s Aliens.”

Dean felt a sudden wave of sadness overcoming him. He wished he wouldn’t know what else there was. What was hiding in the shadows. He wished he could live more naively. For a brief second he imagined what would happen if he’d tell Charlie. Within a few moments Dean could change her complete world view. But this knowledge, it was nothing he wished upon anybody. And he truly hoped that the government was unaware of it too.

“I’m sure it’s Aliens.” He just said, smiling to himself. Who knew, maybe they did hide Aliens. At least Dean had never seen one.

“There was an abduction around here not long before you came. People are still theorizing about what happened. My guess is that the dude just ran off.” She shrugged. “I would too, if I could. Small towns suck.”

Dean smiled at her and pushed himself away from the counter, taking his tools back in his hands after putting the room key in his pocket. “I like small towns. They’re not as overwhelming.”

Charlie scoffed. “Well, maybe at first. But believe me, if your house is finished and you live here, you’ll hate it too.” Dean remembered the lie he had told her before. He started to lose track of every lie he told. “By the way, where do you guys build?”

Dean thought about it for a while. “Oh, I can never remember the street name.” He chuckled and started to walk towards the doors. “Well, see you in a bit. Money doesn’t earn itself.” And beforsten Charlie could even tell him her usuals _Goodbye, Deaneo_. he was already outside, making his way up the three sets of stairs. He knocked on room 378 with his elbow, in case anyone was there so he wouldn’t have to get the key out. And to his suprise a man opened. He wore a nice looking suit and black leather shoes. “I’m here for the broken toilet?” Said Dean and the man stepped aside. He was in his mid 50s, Dean would guess, strongly build with grey, sleeked hair.

The man didn’t speak a word and Dean made his way towards the bathroom. It was more moldy than their own and for the first time Dean was happy about their room. The toilet water kept overflowing and Dean immediately reached down and turned off the handle for the water supply. “Any idea what caused this?”

The mysterious man stood under the door frame and watched Dean. “I flushed something.” Dean rose an eyebrow and nodded slowly. He looked back at the toilet. Thankfully the water was clean and it seemed like the man just flushed something that didn’t belong in a toilet. “Can you fix it?” There was a roughness in his voice that sounded like an accent, Dean couldn’t quite place right. He nodded.

“‘Course I can.” A few minutes later, when he suctioned off most of the water in the bowl and started to work on the actual unplugging, the man reappeared behind him.

“How old are you?”

“Huh?”

“How old?”

Dean had half his arm in this man’s toilet. “17, why?”

The man shrugged. “And you’re working as a plumber?”

“Well,” Dean groaned, trying to get whatever it was that was stuck in the toilet out. “Doing what I can to get some cash.” He laughed trough his exhausted grunts. He went back to using the plumb.

“How about this: no matter what comes out of this toilet you keep quiet and I’ll give you some cash for it, huh?”

Dean stopped what he was doing and turned back to the man, leaving the plumb in the toilet. The man looked serious and Dean could feel the sweat drops form on his forehead. “What am I gonna find?” He asked, cautiously. The man blew out a heave of air and looked around the room. “Puh, let’s say you’re just going to find a bunch of toilet paper, or a dead rat. I don’t fucking care.”

There was a change of energy in the room and Dean could feel something creep down his spine. This man was nothing if not suspicious.

There was a certain amount of security in hunting monsters. They acted on tribal instincts, they acted on rules and obeyed to their own laws. Monsters rarely went rouge and acted out of the ordinary for their kind. But humans? They didn’t act on any laws, there was no security with them. Monsters killed for survival or food, Dean obviously didn’t endorse that, but there was something about it that he could understand in a sense. Yet humans, they killed for the fun of it, because they could. No deeper sense or meaning behind it. It only served the purpose of satisfying their deeply rooted, sick and twisted lust. If monsters killed for the same reason as humans, the human race would’ve gone instinct long ago.

And now Dean’s gaze went over the man’s body. There was mud on his shoes, he wore two different kind of socks, Dean saw the holster around one of his ankle’s for a hidden knife. He tried to make out a gun holster on his side, or a bulge on his back but the man didn’t stand right for Dean to see anything. There was no security in the situation. Dean should play along with the game. Just find a dead rat, no matter what.

“But what am I really going to find?” He said instead. The man took a step forward and adrenaline rushed trough Dean’s veins. In his mind he played out every single scenario and how he could wrestle the man to the ground. But the man was two heads taller than Dean and packed. The boy gulped and stood his stance, he stared right back into the man’s eyes. It was as if he could smell Dean’s fear.

“Son—“ he snarled. “You’re a kid. That’s what’s going to save your ass, do you hear me? You’re going to find a dead, fucking rat.” Dean nodded and continued his work, the man not leaving his side.

After a few more strong pulls something inside the toilet made a plopping sound and swam towards the surface. Dean reached for the plastic bag and it dripped with water. He looked at it for a second before the man behind him ordered to put it into the sink and wash it. Dean did as he was told and caught a closer look at the thing. The contents of the bag looked like crystals, a bunch of them.

Some were a pure white, most of them a darker yellowish brown. Dean had never been fond of chemical drugs. He once sniffed coke in the bathroom at a party when he just turned 16 and sneaked out one night, without John knowing; and he always wanted to try LSD — but that was it. He had never seen Crystal Meth, and never imagined it to look this dirty in reality.

“Kid, come one, get a move on, out of here.” Dean snapped out of it and turned off the water. In his head this was a win, he had suspected a severed hand to show up or something of that kind. He sighed, grabbed his things and moved out of the bathroom. “If I tell the cleaning lady to come by, will she be okay?”

The man chuckled whole heartedly, holding his chest while he bursted out laughing. Dean nervously chuckled along with him before the man pulled out his purse, tears of joy brimming in his eyes. “Tell her to come in twenty minutes.” He said, taking out a $100 bill and giving it to Dean. To his own surprise his hands weren’t even shaking, when he took it.

The man leaned over the table and grabbed a pack of cigarettes, tossing them Dean’s way. “And here for all the stress I’ve caused. You seem like a kid that could use them. Don’t take that shit, though.” He pointed towards the bathroom and Dean looked back over his shoulder. This already felt like a fever dream but he nodded. “And son—“ the man made his way towards the door of his room and opened it. “Why do you work for so little money? I bet they pay you like shit, ey? Some cheap whore in the streets probably makes more than you do for sticking your arm in someone’s shit.”

Dean went trough the door, the money and Marlboros in his pockets. “You’re too much of a sissy, or I’d ask you to join this business. Maybe a bit too stupid for it, too, huh? Nearly shit your pants back there.” A laugh erupted shortly from deep inside the man’s throat. “But you look pretty right? Got them cocksucking lips? What I’m getting at is, I know a guy, they’re always looking for kids like you. There’s a German saying, son, it goes: _Dumb Fucks Well_ , well, something like that, whatever. You’d make better money sucking cock, than doing this. If you want to get into it, just come back to this room, eh? I’m here for another three days, could set you up good.”

Dean’s throat was dry. There was too much information to take in so he just nodded absently, wishing for nothing more than to get out of this situation. The man smiled at his nod “Hope to see you around, son.” And he closed the door and that number, _378_ , smiled at Dean’s face.

He sighed in relief and turned away, his walk a little faster than usual as he made his way down the stairs again. It wasn't the first time he had gotten an offer like that. But the man were usually less blunt about it and more drunk. And incredibly mad at Dean for hustling them at pool in some stinky bar on side of some laid off highway.

Before he even realized how far his feet had taken him, he was giving the room keys back to Charlie and putting the tools back into the storeroom. "How bad was it?" Charlie asked as Dean stripped off the coverall, taking out the money and cigarettes beforehand and sneakily pushing them into his jeans pockets.

"A goddamn rat drowned in there." He said. "You may want to send the cleaning lady in there, in like twenty minutes. There's quite a lot of water overflown."

Charlie nodded, taking the coverall out of Dean's hands before the boy could just throw it back into the storeroom. He looked confused at her, worrying that she had seen him taking out the extra cash. But instead of searching the pockets, she just folded the cloth. "A rat? Oh man, this place is the gate to hell." She chuckled. "Once we found a pigeon in a bath tub after the room hadn’t been rented for a week. Nobody knows how that bird got in there.” She threw the dirty coverall under the counter. “I’m washing this. It stinks, dude.”

Dean smiled at that and his mind was a little bit more at ease now, the last hour suddenly seemed further away. Charlie gave him $20 and explained that it was more this time because the job was a harder one and their boss was really happy, Dean was so reliable. He thanked her and went towards his motel room again.

When he opened the door and everything was quiet he remember what had happened here. Dean sighed and put away the cold, uneaten casserole into the fridge. He wanted to call Sam but the boy wouldn’t answer anyway. There were no new messages on his phone and he felt lonely in a strange sense.

Mindlessly he clicked onto the chat between him and Castiel.

**[9:12 pm]**

**Dean Winchester**

_sam really liked the casserole_

**Castiel**

_He better. I got no left overs bc of him smh_

_But ill tell Jody :)_

**Dean Winchester**

_Thx._

_[typing indicator]_

**[9:14 pm]**

**Castiel**

_What did you wanna write?_

**Dean Winchester**

_Nothing_

**Castiel**

_Can’t sleep again?_

**Dean Winchester**

_Haven’t even tried yet_

_I kinda still wanna do stuff but idk what_

Dean laid his phone away and quickly jumped under the shower. He turned up the radio from his bedside loud enough so he could hear it under there, keeping his mind in guard. He heard his neighbors banging on the walls, complaining about the noise, but he ignored them. They would last five minutes. The water was mostly cold anyway, lukewarm at best, and he jumped out from under there faster than he wanted to. But he felt fresher now, with that dirt washed away from his face and hair.

He turned the radio off and walked back into the bathroom to put on fresh clothes. The old ones, he pushed them into the plastic bag in the corner of the bathroom, where they collected the dirty clothes. He made a mental note that it was time to wash again soon.

He hid the money that he had gotten beneath his mattress and the package of smokes were tossed onto his pillow. He sat down on his bed with a deep sigh. The day had been long but for some reason he didn’t want it to end just yet. Not on these notes.

He opened the window and the Marlboros, it was unopened and a small package of matches had been clipped underneath the lid. He placed one of the cigarettes between his lips and lit it, sitting on the window frame and looking down at the parking lot.

**[9:14 pm]**

**Castiel**

_To be honest, same._

_It’s summer approaching, I think. Like this urge to just wander about?_

_And it’s finally warmer at night, too._

**[9:29 pm]**

**Dean Winchester**

_I know what we’ll do_

**Castiel**

_And that is?_

**[9:34 pm]**

**Castiel**

_Dean??_

**[9:41 pm]**

**Castiel**

_You know I can see you read these messages_

_What do you mean we??_

**[9:43 pm]**

**Castiel**

_you’re so annoying_

_Why do i only have friends like that??_

_Charlie is exactly the same i cant_

**The backyard of the convent, a mild May night in 2015**

Dean smiled at the last text. _I am annoying_ , he thought. He picked up a small stone from the ground and threw it against the round bullseye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: drugs, brief mention of past drug use, mention of underage prostitution, slurs


	14. ...perfection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adopt the pace of nature:  
> Her secret is patience. 
> 
> — Ralph Waldo Emerson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soft content ahead.

_**CHAPTER ELEVEN** _

_**....perfection** _

**The convent on a mild May night, 2015**

Castiel heard a clicking noise against his window glass. The last time he heard that, was when he was 12 and Charlie kept swinging stones against his window to gain his attention. So when he looked outside, that was who he expected to see.

But she wasn’t standing there. There was a dark, male figure standing among the bushes of his backyard. He couldn’t make out his face in the barley lit up darkness of the night. But he had a guess who it was. Castiel opened the window and leaned outside, a small stone fell trough the open window and onto his floor. The night was mild and the approaching summer fell over his soul, embracing him.

“Dean?” He whispered into the night, but loud enough for the person to hear it. The man waved.

“Am I really annoying?” Dean asked.

“Well, yeah.” Castiel chuckled. His friend was shifting on his feet, scratching the back of his neck. “What are you doing here?”

“You said you were bored and wanted to go out, so I thought, why not go out together?” Castiel couldn’t see how Dean’s eyes slightly widened at the phrasing. “I mean, go out in the sense of going outside together, you know? Not like, eh, you know, going out-out—“ He was beginning to stumble over his words again.

“I know what you mean, Dean.” Castiel chuckled trough his words. “I would really like to go out with you. But we got school tomorrow...”

“Come one, Cas! We’re not gonna fall asleep anytime soon, anyway. So might as well pass the time, right?”

Castiel leaned back and exhaled, contemplating. He looked at the clock, it was only ten pm. His finished English assignment laid on his bed and he remembered how bored he was only a few minutes ago, feeling like the ceiling was going to fall down on him. He sighed and leaned back outside the window. “Fine, I’ll be down in a bit.”

When Castiel stood before Dean they both staggered a bit, not knowing how to greet each other, or if to hug or not. They just stood there smiling at each other widely. His heart pumped faster when he looked at the Winchester. But the usual pressure that was laying over his chest was washed away. Maybe it was the fresh air of that night but he felt like he just bit down on a strong mint.

They didn’t hug. “So, do you have a plan?”

“For life in general or just about tonight? Either way the answer is no.”

Castiel chuckled even though the joke was bad and they just started to walk towards nowhere, around the town. “So, you’re bored too, huh?” Castiel asked after a few moments of silence, there was not much to talk about and the shadow of their previous more stern conversation, still laid over them.

“Yeah, the Motel room is too empty right now. Sammy’s staying with a friend and we had a small fight, so I pretty much felt like the ceiling was gonna drop down on me.” He kicked a stone in his path. “Then Charlie had A job for me and I pulled a bunch of Meth out of some dick’s toilet.”

“What?”

“Charlie had a job for me and I—“

“No, I understood you. You pulled Meth out of someone’s toilet?” Dean nodded (Dean didn’t plan on sharing this with Castiel, but whenever he was with him, he felt like he could just go on and on about his life, Without judgement) and Castiel couldn’t help it but chuckle in disbelieve. “What did you do then? Oh my God, Dean!” He laughed at the story. “You called the police?”

“Oh, no!” Dean laughed, feeling more at ease with talking about the thing now that Castiel was rather calm about the situation. “The guy was fucking scary! Fucking six foot five or something. I pulled the shit out of there and left.”

Castiel laughed a bit more, shaking his head. “No fucking way, this town, man. But you’re okay, though?” His voice changed when he asked that. Full of worry and interest. Dean’s wide smile faded to a soft tucking at the corners of his lips.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Cas. He gave me like a hundred bucks for saying it was a dead rat, like I would have even thought about telling anyone the truth. He was just pretty weird at the end.”

“Just at the end?” He scoffed, looking at Dean, who kept kicking the stones in his way. And when there wasn’t a stone to kick, he dragged his feet above the ground anyway, slouching with every step.

“Well, he was the weirdest then. Offered me to get me in contact with a pimp he knows, if I wanted to.” Dean looked up at Castiel, who had shock written all over his face. “Dude, don’t look like that! I declined. I’m just taking it as a compliment.”

“Dean, that’s _fucked_.”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged. “Not much to do about it, though, right?”

“Well, you could call the fucking police, for starters!”

Dean shook his head. “Only thing I could do is an anonymous tip and those never pull trough and then I’d have a fucking mob or whatever on my heels.”

“Why only anonymously?”

“The police would ask way too many questions. I don’t even legally work at the Motel, I’m not allowed to live there by my own with Sam without a parent, I got a bunch of fake IDs, I took money from the guy. The list goes on.”

Castiel nodded, taking Dean’s point and letting the reasons replay in his head. “Wait, you got a bunch of fake IDs? Why?”

“Oh, my father gave them to me, in case I have to help out in his business.” He dismissed it with a wave.

“Dude, what kind of business is your father running?” Castiel laughed a little, looking at Dean with widened eyes.

“Oh, you know, the Business.” He said and when Castiel didn’t answer he looked at him again, a face of disbelieve smiling back at Dean. To that, Dean playfully bumped into Castiel’s side and the boy lost his stance a little. “Don’t look like that, again! Maybe I’ll tell you someday.” _I won’t_ , thought Dean.

“You better, Mister Mysterious...You got a long day behind you, huh?”

“Well, not everything was bad.” Dean reached in his pocket and pulled out the package of Marlboros to flick a cigarette in his mouth, offering Castiel one too, who accepted without hesitation. “Training with you was pretty nice, you know.” He smiled at Castiel and his heart dropped.

“Yeah, it was.” The former angel’s voice was small, no sign that he had ever spoken to heavens.

“Oh!” Dean exclaimed then. “I have an idea where we can go.” He lit his own cigarette with a matchstick.

“And where’s that?” Castiel leaned forward to hold his cigarette above the flame, Dean sheltered the fire with his free hand.

“I saw a postcard, it had a lake on it and it said that was around here. Is that right?”

Castiel contemplated for a second then he though of it. “The small like outside of town?” Dean just shrugged. “It hasn’t been tended to in a few years. They still put that on postcards?” He laughed. “No one goes there anymore.”

“Well, perfect then. Let’s go there.” But Castiel shook his head.

“No, it’s too far away. Like 15 minutes with a car, and I doubt either of us has one. But there’s a small river, it flows not far behind the convent.” Dean didn’t even think about it and accepted Castiel’s proposal. The small river wasn’t far from the convent, yet it was covered with trees and bushes. Those who didn’t know it was there wouldn’t see it, but maybe hear the stream dashing trough the silence.

To Dean’s surprise Castiel climbed trough the bushes and sticks. “Keep an eye out for stones and roots, or you’re gonna fall into the water.” Dean nodded, concentrating on his steps as he followed Castiel trough the plants.

“You’re a real nature kid, huh?” He grunted as the third stick pocked trough his jeans and into his leg. Castiel flawlessly rushed down the small hill, toward the riverbank and shrugged.

“Just know my way about, I’d say.” He stemmed his hands in his hips and looked upwards at Dean. The hunter stood weakly on his feet, trying to maintain his balance. He just grunted in response, searching for a save spot to put his feet next. “You just gotta let yourself slide down.” Castiel said at Dean’s struggle and the boy stopped in his path.

“Fuck off. _Just slide down_.” He mocked. “Imma break a fucking leg.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Do you trust me?” Dean’s head shot up and he looked into Castiel’s eyes. He did trust him. Dean thought it was impossible not to. But he couldn’t say that. Castiel took his silence as a yes. “Then just get down on your ass and slide down. That’s how I did it as a kid. I promise you, you’ll be fine.”

Dean grunted reluctantly but sat down in the dirt. He scooted down the steep hill, his feet stretched out in front of him to kick away all the small sticks and stones in his way. He landed before Castiel, who offered him his hand. He looked at his soft smile as he took it.

“Thanks.” He said, brushing the dirt off of his hands as he stood on flat ground again. It was the first time Dean could really look at the river bank. The water wasn’t as clear as he had expected but he didn’t know if it was naturally dirty because of the soil or if there was a factory in the area. It was surrounded by greenery, everything beamed in a fresh yellowish-green since it bloomed for only a few weeks now.

But the spot where they stood, it seemed somehow greener, more alive even during the night. Castiel sat down in the dirt, not caring about his pants, and crossed his legs as he looked at the small river. “I used to come here a lot when I was younger. I still do now sometimes.” He laughed. “It’s like my little, personal place.”

Dean sat down beside him. The water rushed trough the riverbank, the sound calmed down his heart beat. “I’m honored that you show it to me.” He smiled, jokingly but Castiel’s face, though painted with a smile, seemed serious.

“You better. Not even Charlie knows of this.” He leaned back onto his elbows.

They sat in silence for a while. Calmly Castiel began to take of his shoes and socks and carefully tipped his toes inside the cold lake water. He hissed at the sudden coldness but pushed trough it, dipping his feet into the flow. Dean didn’t comment on it but just started to do the same. It took him longer to completely let his feet emerge in the water and he wondered how Castiel could do it so easily.

He looked at the boy next to him, as Castiel’s gaze wandered to the other side. He was still resting on his elbows and under arms, feet dangling in the water.

Dean _really_ looked at him for the first time. How he had messily pulled up his sweatpants so they wouldn’t get wet, how his sleeping shirt was a little too big for him and it crumbled up at his stomach. The sleeves of his jacket brushed against the dirt but it didn’t bother the boy, it was as if he had done it a million times. You could wash clothes, so why keep them clean?

His black hair was roughed up, his eyes sleepy and calm as they swung up and down as if following the tones to a song, his head bouncing with the rhythm.

A ray of cold moon light creeped trough the clouds and trough the tree crowns. It fell so that the gems on Castiel’s necklace twinkled like stars.

“Can I ask you something?” Dean spoke trough the silence, but softly so that it barley cut trough the air. Castiel looked at him sleepily. (It had been a while since he truly felt so tired and calm. He didn’t notice that his tinnitus was gone, because you only ever notice tinnitus, when its there)

“Go ahead.” He smiled softly, looking back up at Dean and the blue of his eyes glistened tiredly. It was as if he was about to fall asleep.

“How can you believe in a God? I mean, it’s cool, that you do, I’m sure it helps. But with all the terror and murder and what not... How can you believe that there’s someone good there?” Dean envied it.

Castiel looked away and down to his necklace. “I don’t know, Dean, I just do. I think the world is much better than it has been years ago. I believe humanity is good, for the most part anyway. Free will and all.”

“And what if there are other things than humans?”

“What? Like monsters?” Castiel chuckled.

“Yes, like that. Or what if there are demons and angels, do you believe in that?”

Castiel looked at him confused, trying to figure out if Dean was making fun of him or not. The water on his feet was beginning to get too cold and he pulled them up, the soft breeze was clearer on his wet skin. “I think those things are metaphors. I do like the mythology, though, wouldn’t it make the world even more interesting?”

“I don’t think so. It would make this place even more horrific. I mean, heaven and hell, monsters and a God, who either isn’t there or doesn’t give a shit... Or gets off on it.” Castiel shot him a sharp look.“So, yeah, if all of that existed, would you still cling on to your belief?”

Castiel sat up straight and smiled at Dean. He had asked Jody’s something similar once, when he had struggled with it. “Belief is the opposite of holding on: It’s letting go. Trusting blindly that there is balance and eventually Paradise. And my faith, that feeling of letting go and trusting so blindly, it helps me, you know? With everything, basically. I don’t expect you to understand that. I don’t even understand it. But this religion, it’s the only thing I have from my previous life. The necklace is the only thing I have from before I was bought here.”

Dean nodded silently and Castiel continued. “But to answer your question. I don’t know what I would do if monsters were real, or if it would really change anything.” He shrugged and looked at deeply at Dean. “And wouldn’t it be great if angels were real? Wouldn’t that be a good thing?”

“Only if they were good.”

“I’m sure they are. I mean, they’re angels.”

“Wasn’t Lucifer an angel , too?”

Castiel chuckled, his hips moved a little, his knee touched Dean’s. Neither moved away. “I guess so.” He stopped at the touch and looked at Dean again, his heart was aching as he looked at the boy. Dean longed for something, he stared at Castiel and into nothingness at the same time. Melancholy laid over the hunter’s mind, coated him inside a web of possibilities.

It saddened Dean that he could never tell Castiel what was out there. He didn’t want to, it would ruin his faith, his being, his positivity towards life. But he wanted to tell Castiel, he wanted to share it with him, his struggle so he could hear from Castiel that he didn’t have to do it. He didn’t have to hunt, to join John’s business. He just had to hear it from Castiel.

He had to hear from someone that it was okay, if he just stayed here.

And he wanted to, wanted to stay here. Right here, this moment. Castiel’s side softly bumped against his own and Dean snapped out of his thoughts. They were sitting closer together now. His heart longed for something, it ached and pumped for something.

Castiel looked up at Dean.

What would happen if Dean told him that angels were real? That they were assholes? What if he could just tell someone about everything. Really _everything_.

They’re shoulders were touching and Dean looked down at Castiel. The other boy was already looking back at the river and they sat like that, their sides touching, their hands close to each other, Castiel’s leg halfway on top of Dean’s.

The hunter was able to be so open with Castiel but this secret: it was something he could never share. And even if he could, he wouldn’t. Wouldn’t want to take the security away from Castiel.

Before Dean even knew what he was doing, his hand was moving up slightly. The cold water around his feet had made them numb by now, and his hands were slightly dirty from the soil under them.

But Castiel didn’t snap at the cold fingers against his face, instead he just let Dean guide his face back up to his own.

Castiel looked into Dean’s eyes. Dean’s own were locked on the other boy’s lips.

The hunter leaned forward, Castiel leaned into it too. Both of their hearts skipped the same beat, dropping in their chests and starting up again at the same time again, synchronized. They gently kissed like that for a bit, before they both had to smile and chuckle trough it. Neither of them said a thing, they just kept sitting there. Together and intertwined, smiling and looking out to the river.

There was a small fish swimming in the vast stream and Castiel tried to remember if he had ever seen a fish in this river before.

It all seemed even greener now.


	15. And you always worry about the damnedest things

_**CHAPTER TWELVE** _

_**And you always worry about the damnedest things** _

**The convent, the next morning, 2015**

Castiel had nice dreams. With a grin on his face and a slight bounce to his walk he made his way down the stairs. They didn’t creak as loud as usual, and it didn’t hurt Castiel’s ears as much. In the back of his mind he knew, that he should feel worried. He had known the Winchester for barley two weeks, they had kissed without a warning. But Castiel didn’t freak out about seeing him at school again, or at training. He looked forward to it. There was an easiness to every situation accompanied by Dean. His smile grew only wider.

The further he made it down the stairs, the more prominent was the warm smell of toast and coffee. He smelled the dark beans, the melting butter, even the faint hint of oranges that came from Jody’s favorite kind of tea. The day seemed more vibrant to him, like a soft dream that tucked you in.

As expected, when he stood under the door frame Jody sat alone on the big round table, a cup of tea between her hands. Castiel smiled at her and she straightened her back. Jody was wearing the usual nun attire. Her white cowl was covered by the black veil and and unusual large wooden cross dangled from her neck. She hardly smiled back, but Castiel felt that she wanted to, yet she just lacked the energy.

“Morning, Castiel.” She gestured towards his usual spot. She had put down two toasts onto a cutting board, only a bit of butter on them with a sprinkle of salt.

“Morning, Jody.” He replied, sitting down on the massive chair. The smell of his dark coffee searched its way to his nostrils. Deeply inhaling the coffee scent as it moved up, he smiled into his mug. The taste was bitter as always but accompanied by the faintest taste of just a little bit of sugar. Jody would prepare the breakfast like this, whenever she found the time between her occupations. But these past days the nunnery seemed to work a lot smoother, seeing that Easter had blown over and the winter turned into summer.

“Have you looked into the garden today?” She asked, cautiously as if scared to step into a trap. The boy wanted to raise and eyebrow at her tone but stopped himself from overthinking just in time. Instead of asking her about, what he would find, if he looked outside, he leaned back in his chair. It slightly tipped over onto its back legs and Castiel wrapped his foot around the table to keep his balance. He held the warm coffee cup between his lap, as he looked out the window.

There were five new blossoms on the rose. He let himself and the chair fall forward again and placed the cup back onto the table. “The rose is blooming so well!” He exclaimed, clearly excited. The rose was, in a sense, a symbol of his time here. Ever since him and Jody planted it together he’d impatiently wait for June every year, because that’s the earliest that it’d go into bloom.

“Ever since late April.” Jody added, tiredly. She took another sip of her tea before she put it down agaIn. Only sometimes Castiel saw her drink coffee, and when she drank it, it was without caffeine.

That’s why she had always smelled like whatever sort of tea she was drinking at the moment. Castiel wondered how he had never noticed the strong scent of the oranges before. He wouldn’t let it bother him today. There were too many good things happening. (“Too many” in reality meant “One”. As in Dean Winchester.)

“Isn’t it nice? That it blooms in May already, I mean. God, Jody, isn’t it just great?”

The woman sighed, mumbling something about the Lord’s name in vain into her cup. To that Castiel had risen an eyebrow. Jody believed in God, but not in taking the Bible serious in its every word. Simply put: Jody had never really cared about how he spoke as long as she knew that Castiel wasn’t speaking in anger, or at least in unfair anger.

She sighed after placing the cup back onto the wood. “Castiel, are you lying to me?”

His face must’ve dropped in disbelief but the woman in front of him didn’t retract her question. Castiel began to stutter, thinking of the last night. “I- No, I mean, no. I’m not lying to you.” He leaned a little closer to her from across the table. “What makes you ask that?” There laid worry and sadness in his voice, his face sunk down.

“So if I ask you why you were outside last night, you’d tell me the truth?”

Castiel’s jaw dropped again. “Yes, Jody, I would! Since when do you not trust me?”

Jody sighed again and leaned back in her chair. She had refused Bobby’s help with warding the convent against angels. But now she would feel the slightest bit better, if she had those papers in the house, or at least that what she thought, she’d feel like. “Then where were you?” Her voice grew a little louder and the wooden crucifix of her necklace banged against the hard wood of the table.

All that she had known was, that Castiel had disappeared for hours without telling her where he went or with whom. Maybe her ears were getting weaker, but when Castiel was young, and he’d sneak out with Charlie and her girlfriend of the time, Jody would always hear them snicker. She knew exactly when Castiel snuck out and exactly when he came back.

This morning she hadn’t even been sure if he had come back home. Her night was absolutely restless and she had the urge to text him several times, but stopped herself. Her worry about his safety was mixed with the worry about his angelic grace pushing trough his humanity.

Jody was not scared of Castiel. She was worried, that if Bobby was right, and Castiel really was becoming an angel again, she wouldn’t be able to recognize Castiel. She knew the supernatural, or bits of it at least. Bobby had saved her life, that’s how they met. Then he had told her about this world and helped her a few years later when she asked him how to send spirits to peace (The convent had been haunted, the spirits were mostly confused and tortured souls. They just waned to get into heaven, they didn’t want to cause destruction).

But she also knew that most angels, or so Bobby had told her, were not exactly angelic. They were the most powerful, and most violent, probably even scarier than demons, because they acted in the name of God. And as much as she wanted to believe that Castiel was different, there was a seed of distrust in her. Not towards Castiel, not this Castiel at least, but towards what he may become again. And that scared her. Scared her like nothing else.

Castiel swallowed at the question of hers, not sure how much of the truth he was supposed to tell her. “Me and a friend, uh, we went out. Just behind the convent to the river, took a little hike, I guess. We were bored, I was done with my English assignment... Jody, what is this about? If it’s because I didn’t let you know beforehand—“

“No, no, Castiel.” She interrupted, a smile on her lips. “That’s not it. I was just worried...something happened. That’s all. Eat up now, you gotta be in school soon.” She pushed the little board further towards Castiel and he hesitantly took the toast. It was cold now but still tasted delicious, buttery.

He smiled again. “I’m sorry, I worried you.” He said, still munching.

She smiled, shaking her head slightly. “You always have, Castiel. That’s what children do. They worry their mothers.” She sighed, standing up. She didn’t realize Castiel had frozen in his spot.

Slowly Jody made her way around the table, she threw a glance outside at the rose and suddenly it felt so useless and silly to worry about such a simple thing. Maybe this May was just particularly warm.

She brushed a hand over Castiel’s shoulder and gently pressed a kiss on the top of his head. He still hadn’t moved. Her gown softly brushed against his cheek. It smelled of oranges.

She ruffled trough his hair and made her way towards the halls. “By the way.” She started, as she was under the doorframe already, looking back into the room. Castiel slowly turned his head, his face without expression still. “I have phoned your therapist. I haven’t told her what you did, because I think that’s something you need to do. But she’s happy to pick up sessions again early. Times as usual.” She smiled and Castiel nodded.

After Jody left he just stared back into nothingness.

 _That’s what_ children _do_. He smiled, pushing the lump on his throat down, and ate his toast.

**Singer’s old auto shop, the same May morning, 2015**

“John, I swear to God, answer your fucking phone or I’ll find you and _make_ you listen to what I have to say.” The old man spoke onto the voice mail of the Winchester.

With too much force he pressed down onto the red button to cancel the call. He was about to dial the next number, one of his other phones, when the screen lit up.

“Took you long enough.” Bobby answered to John’s call. The father sighed at the other end of the phone line, his breathing was heavy and he had definitely not slept long.

“What do you want, Singer.” He grunted, and Bobby immediately heard that the Winchester had been dinking. His throat was dry and raspy. 

“Haven’t you heard any of my fucking messages?” It infuriated Bobby how calm John was staying. He felt the urge to poke the sleeping dragon, make him spit fire and bite his own tail. But John just sat up, the squeaking sounded like the leather of his car.

“Would I ask if I did? No, so go ahead. What’s the problem?”

“You, John, as always.” Bobby blurted out. “For how long are you gonna leave your children this time? They’re damn kids! At least send them to me.”

The man grunted heavily on the other end. Gritting his teeth, he snarled into the microphone “If you want them at your place, take them. I don’t fucking care. The little shitheads wanted to go to school so I told them to find one. Not my problem that they didn’t do a good job.”

It was hard for Bobby but he swallowed his words. He only spat “And what _job_ are you on?”

“Angels. Fuckin’ dickheads are everywhere. They planning something and I wanna find out what. So either help, or quit blocking the line, old man.”

Bobby hung up, cussing. He wasn’t sure what exactly he had expected from a call with John Winchester but as low as the expectations were, they still weren’t met. He wished so badly, that Dean and Sam would just come stay with him. The upstairs hadn’t been lived in in years, nearly a decade. But two rooms were always tidied up, ready for them to drop by or move in. But they wouldn’t. Dean would never leave his father and Sam would feel like stabbing his brother in the back, or leaving him behind.

These kids were insufferable, but Bobby loved them with all he got.

**The laundry room of the Motel, the same morning, 2015**

“Yes, Bobby...No....Yes I’m—....Huh, yeah?....He paid the room.... Two months......23rd July, I think....Yes, you too. See you, bye.” Dean took the phone that was clamped between his shoulder and ear and put it back in his pocket. He looked at the basket of laundry between his arms and just decided to dunk it all in at once. They didn’t have many colored tees, and the ones they had were rather dark. Bobby had shown him how to do the laundry a few years ago, the old man didn’t give much attention to doing it right, too, as long as the clothes didn’t smell bad afterwards, the job was done.

And Dean liked that simplicity. He poured some of the blue liquid on top of the clothes and closed the lit. The woman next to him eyed him with a funny look but she didn’t say anything. The washing machine was up to 12 pounds and Dean felt that if he went over that measure by a few pounds, there wouldn’t be any harm. As long as you could close it, it was good, right?

He dropped his change into the washing machine and started the program. Half an hour. He sighed and sat back onto a bench. as much as he’d like to creep back into his bed (He had taken the blanket from Sam’s side, it was more bearable to sleep with an extra, softer layer), he had to keep an eye on their clothes. As unlikely as it was that someone would steal them, he still had to make sure.

The woman left and Dean sat alone in the basement room. The windows were small and high on the wall, and even if the sun was shining, Dean doubted much of the light would find its way into the cold room. The white neon lights looked unnatural to say the least, the cement walls only looked less welcoming in the cold hue. Some of the green paint splattered off of the walls, showing the dirty grey beneath them. The rumbling of the machines echoed trough the square room. If it wasn’t for the clock around his wrist, Dean would’ve easily believed that it was 2 am

And maybe it would’ve been smarter to do this at 2 am, and not only an hour before he had to be at school. But that’s how it happened. What was he supposed to do? He came “home” way too late and the adrenaline in his veins was too much for him to just sit still somewhere and wait for the washing program to be trough.

He grinned, thinking back to last night. It was much different to the other times that he had made out with someone. Most of his past first kisses happened drunk, or somewhat hurried. This one was calmer, steadier and just different. He smiled softly at his phone, opening the chat. He barley knew Castiel, of course, but that wasn’t unusual. The unusual part was how he felt around him, even though he barley knew him.

Dean wasn’t one to get attached, at lie promised himself that. Promised himself, that for as long as they were on the road, he wouldn’t fall for anyone. No distance relationships, no serious things, no nothing. Just fun, that’s what he promised himself. To make the best of it. But a thought creeped deep inside his brain. A thought, that maybe this time, the best of it, would be to break his promises to himself. Maybe the best would be to try and make this into something more.

Because in the end, and that hit him like a train as he walked home the past night, he wanted to know Castiel better. He wanted Castiel to trust him, to tell him stories and to care about him. And that was the truly unusual part.

**[6:43 am]**

**Dean Winchester**

_Good morning, I hope you slept well_

_Wanna walk to school together? I could pick you up at your place :)_

**Cas**

_Yeah, that’d be nice :)_

_Just knock on the front door when you’re here our bell broke_

When Dean was close to the convent he took his phone out again and smiled at the emoji Castiel had sent. He hoped that to him, this wasn’t just a one time thing, too, and they could talk about it. Dean wouldn’t go as far as to say that he wanted something serious or wanted to immediately get into a relationship with Cas. But he felt that, if they were to know each other even better, that’s be a thing to consider. He felt warm as he made his way in the rising morning sun and knocked on the tall, heavy doors of the convent. The knock echoed trough the halls, he could even hear that from the outside.

The doors opened with a loud creak and Jody stood there. “Oh, Dean?” She smiled and opened the door even wider. Dean hadn’t seen her in her nun clothes and he was taken aback only a little, by surprise. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, uh, Cas told me to knock. We want to go to school together.” Jody rose an eyebrow but there was an amused look on her face, and she chuckled slightly.

“I’m sure Cas is ready. I’ll tell him you’re here, you can wait here.”

Dean nodded, “Thanks, oh, and...He told me your bell is broken? I can take a look at that after school, if you want to.” Jody looked at him for a while longer. Bobby really hadn’t told Dean anything about Castiel. She nodded again, a smile appearing on her lips once more.

“That would be very kind of you, Dean.” He nodded back to her once more and she disappeared back into the old building. He made his way back towards the street, the front yard wasn’t as full of flowers as the back yard but there were still a few bushed and small trees. It all looked so soft and tended to. The morning dew was still on the leaves and grass.

It didn’t take long for Castiel to make his way from behind the convent. He was probably already in the backyard and it was faster to just step over the small fence, that separated back from front yard, than to go trough the the building. He held two cups in his hands and was careful not to spill anything. They smiled at each other so much that it hurt their mouths. They couldn’t stop smiling and neither of them new how to greet the other, so they just stood there, smiling and smiling.

“I bought you something.” Castiel finally said, holding one of the cups in his hands towards Dean. The boy gladly took it. “It’s milk and sugar, I guessed but I hope that’s right.”

Dean hated milk and sugar. Maybe hate was a very strong word, but he definitely preferred black coffee. but the glitz in Castiel’s eyes, that glitz of hope, he couldn’t risk to have it wash away. So Dean just smiled “That’s exactly how I like my coffee!” And he smelled the steam coming from the cup. “Thank you.”

There was probably a deeper meaning in the fact, that Castiel thought Dean was a milk and sugar guy, instead of a black coffee guy. But neither of them thought about that. It was just coffee.

“No problem.” Castiel smiled again and kicked the ground, swinging in a half circle to face the direction of the way they had to head. “Shall we?”

They walked for a few for a few minutes without talking about anything interesting. Mostly about school, wrestling or whatever was on the news at the moment. But neither of them dared to ask the questions that really burned on their tongue.

“Oh,” Castiel then said, nearly choking on a sip of his coffee. “You nearly hit me in the head with a stone yesterday.” He pulled a little stone out of his pocket. The stone was smooth and a hazel brown, shaped like an imperfect oval. “I found it in my room this morning.”

Dean took the stone from his hand and looked at it. “Mhm, I knew that I missed.” Castiel gasped, theatrically offended. Dean playfully bumped into his side, careful enough so neither of them would spill their drinks.

“ _Joking_ , of course.”

“I know, I know.” Castiel chuckled, breathing out a heave of air.

“Can I keep it?” Dean looked at Castiel, who had turned his gaze towards him. “You know, as a souvenir.”

“Yeah, of course.” Castiel smiled, thinking about how cute the gesture was. The way Dean looked at the stone was peculiar. He put into his jacket pocket and closed the zip. His dangled beside his pocket in the air. His pinkie twitched to the side and softly brushed against Castiel’s hand.

Both of them took a sip of their coffee, to overplay their racing hearts. Castiel’s hand softly bumped against Dean’s again and stayed there this time. Gently the hunter’s rough fingers found their way between Castiel’s.

They both smiled into their cups, holding hands for the rest of the way.

They were getting closer to school and both of them felt like they had missed an opportunity to say something. When they had to part ways, they smiled again, awkwardly shifting on their feet.

“Do you maybe wanna go grab another coffee after school and talk a bit? You know, about yesterday and everything.” Dean asked. Castiel chuckled at their inability to talk about the topic, shaking his head.

“Can’t believe this is happening.” He laughed a little but his laugh died when he looked up at Dean again. There was a soft smile on both of their lips and Castiel started nodding slowly. “I’d like that. After training then?”

“After training.” Castiel’s gaze wandered from left to right and as he saw that no one was watching them he stepped closer to the Winchester. He had to slightly get on his toes to press a peck on his cheek. He could feel small stubbles and smiled when he stood back again.

Dean stood there, frozen on the spot with a huge buttercup smile on his face. Castiel chuckled at the sight “See you then.” He pressed trough his lips.

Dean just nodded, too happy to find words.


	16. We are waiting for the earth to kneel in blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since you are the one who has to live with your choices,  
> Be sure they are your own
> 
> —Alan Cohen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is less long but yayyy the flashbacks to Angel Cas are back!! The plot thickens, ma dudes

_**CHAPTER THIRTEEN** _

_**We are waiting for the earth to kneel in blood** _

**Nowhere and Everywhere, way before Christ**

On the Seventh Day God rested, that’s what would be written in the Bible. But it had never been mentioned how long the Seventh Day would last. It would last until The End.

After the beginning of the Seventh Day Castiel had left Egypt and made his way back to heaven. Heaven was a place far from Earth, far from the rest of the universe. It was above all, the same as Hell was underneath all. His home provided regulations, hierarchy and orders. It was guided like the Regimes on Earth were guided by their Kings but in difference to humans, celestial beings had achieved perfection within their classes.

Castiel was a simple angel, one of the lowest ranked in fact, but in the Beginning, he remembered God whispering to him, that the lowest rank was the foundation, the closest to their creation they would later call humanity. Simple angels were messengers, they were to protect them and Castiel— he was very special, you see. God whispered in his ear, that Castiel would just stand by and watch. That was his mission, to watch the story in front of him evolve, without getting involved.

What Castiel had not known is that God whispered to them all. To every Angel, Archangel, Ruler, Power, Virtue, Domination, Thorne, Cherub and Seraph. Those nine creations that came before humanity were the celestial beings of heaven, keeping it working.

Three classes, each one counted three beings in them. And every class had been told that they were the most important, most special and overall better than the others. If God had lied or not was not yet to be determined.

Heaven had been in order for as long as Castiel could think, so for forever. Ever since the start each being was told their place and their tasks, they all existed in their realms and God guided them to more perfection.

But now when Castiel entered his home it didn’t feel like golden rays washing over his soul. There was an energy missing and he remembered the message. The one he got only moments before, when he was still on Earth, watching over the mother. _God is gone._

And it was awfully quiet.

The Burning Ones, the Seraphim, who hovered to God’s feet and sang Hymns, had fallen to the depths of heaven. They were glimmering and rolled into a ball like a snake that curled up. They had six wings, only two of which they used to fly. The other four they used to cover their faces and their feet.

Now they laid curled up, their wings only a dim in the light and wrapped around them like a blanket. The Burning Ones had fallen down, there were two of them on the ground. No one had ever seen their faces and yet there they were, in all their magnificence.

Their eyes stared back up to them, a dark blue came from deep inside their souls and it scared Castiel to the core. Most of the light was gone, they were close to burning out. Their singing turned to whimper, much like the mother who had cared for her child.

Castiel couldn’t bare to look at them any longer. He looked around for his superiors. Any superior, to receive further orders, to take note of what was going on. As his eyes wandered around he saw beings he hadn’t seen since the creation of Eden. The Cherubim were tasked to guard the tree of life, as task apparently now gone obsolete. _They ate the apple_ , Castiel remembered hearing the angels say.

The cherubs walked gracefully like a lion on their four feet, which were those of an oxen. They counted for faces and four wings. Their voices were all surrounding when they spoke without moving any of their mouths. The eyes of the creations moved in a menacing tone (The four faces were that of an ox, an eagle, a lion and a man)

“The Seventh Day has begun. The Seraphim will rest until God returns. Until then The Elders and The Cherubim will rule heaven. It is so, because it is us, who are the next highest in rank and closest to God. Disobey our orders and you disobey God.”

There was no celestial equivalent of whisper howling trough a room, but if there was it would’ve occurred at this point. All beings that were present, which were the most of them Castiel had ever seen in one place at one time, started to look around. The angelic transmissions fell dead as everyone tuned out their own thoughts for no one to hear.

Though the Cherubim and Elders were higher ranked than Castiel, they had never been tasked to give orders. The Dominations and Powers of the second rank were in charge of Angels like him, and everyone inside the first rank. There was a spark of unwillingness inside Castiel’s being that told him not to follow their orders but his superiors stood quiet on the side, their swords, chains, shields and scepters by their side, it felt like a surrender to a class they despised.

Heaven was home to Castiel, that was out of the jest ion, but his time on Earth, it gave him another feeling. A sense of pride that he was allowed to stand this close to Gods creations, when the higher ranks seemed to only see their flaws. Castiel was relieved that he never had to be a part of the bureaucracy up in heaven, or sing for all eternity.

The Dominations looked up to the beings from the first rank. Their forms were those of the most beautiful humans, though their perfection to Castiel seemed a bit inhuman. Their skin was dark, almost a pure black, and their features laid so soft within their face it looked like what later would be considered porcelain. Their eyes were the same dark blue as those of the Seraphim.

One of them moved forward, their golden wings behind their back flattered. Their human appearance made them look much smaller than they were. The orbs of light that had always been fixated to their swords and scepters moved faster. “You are not to give orders.” One of them spoke, hitting the end of his scepter on the ground. “If you would be in charge now, God would have told us so. The Rulers, Archangels and Angels are of our matter. They follow our orders.”

“And it can be that way, Domination.” One of the Elders said. “But you, and those of the second order, will be our matter now and do as we say.”

Then from far below the whimper grew louder and silenced the other beings, who were about to stumble into a Civil War. The two Seraphim on the ground crumbled in pain, their snake like heads looking up towards the others. Their embodiments were larger than anything Castiel had ever laid eyes on. When they still were far up high in the sky the perception of them was off. Now that they were so weakened, they still didn’t look any less immense.

Castiel’s disembodied form was only as big as one of their snake heads. He hated their singing but he respected them. And now he pitied them.

“God casted out the Archangel Lucifer, the one he fancied the deepest. His creation, they ate the apple. Not only will they now understand the difference between the Good and the Evil, they will create it darker and more intensely than God has ever done. Demons will walk the Earth, Hell has a ruler now.” The Seraphim snarled, on of its eyes rolled back into the skull.

“The Seventh Day will last for now. God will step back into their thrown when it is time to fight the battle of Good and Evil in the world. When it is time to end the experiment and lead humanity back to Eden. Armageddon will come. Heaven will win.” Said the second Seraphim, its body creeping over the one of its sibling.

Their heads laid down beside each other, covering their heads and feet again with their wings.

“You see!” Hissed one of the Cherubim and the eyes all over its four wings stared at the second rank. “We will have to prepare for Armageddon. This is now all our task. God has given you a new task.”

The few who had stepped forward bowed their heads and returned back to order. At this point no one knew of Castiel, other than his closest brothers and sisters. Not even the Archangels cared about the lowest rank of the lowest order.

That he would one day be a fugitive, wanted for high treason, no one imagined.

Not even Castiel himself.

**Coffeeshop in the small town in Kansas, 2015**

Dean and Castiel only parted hands when Dean pushed open the glass door for them to enter the coffee shop. Dean looked at the variety of drinks they offered, but in the end, decided to get a coffee with milk and sugar. He watched Castiel’s smile widen as he recognized it was the same order he had given to Dean before they walked to school. “You know, I’m sure I can guess what you want.” Dean said and smiled.

Castiel nodded towards the board. “Please, try.” He said and studied as Dean’s eyes scanned the board. There was a shine of happiness in his eyes, they sparkled green. “Actually, I think you take normal coffee with just milk.” Dean looked at Castiel with the widest smile. There was a small gap between his front teeth, so little that most people would never notice it. Castiel didn’t even realize that he smiled and nodded, causing the cashier to take it as his order.

But he could’ve been lactose intolerant, Castiel would’ve still drank his coffee with milk just to see Dean smile like that.

They decided to sit outside of the coffeeshop in the setting sun. The sun kissed their skins and Dean’s freckles appeared more prominent than ever before. They looked at each other and smiled, talking about things neither of them much cared about. The weather, school, training... But no matter what they talked about it seemed more significant than anything else in that moment.

Dean pulled out the package of cigarettes and tried not to think of how he had gotten it. But instead he thought about how Castiel had taken one with slightly trembling hands the night before. Again he offered Castiel one and he accepted it.

There were a few moments of silence as they looked out to the streets, drank their coffee and inhaled their smokes. Then Castiel sighed and leaned forward, untwining his legs. He looked up towards Dean and a strand of hair fell into his face. “So, yesterday, huh?” He smiled.

The Winchester squinted his eyes in the sun and held a hand above his eyes to see Castiel clearer, smirking. “Yeah, yesterday. That was nice.”

Castiel nodded and sat back up. “I think so, too...But was that all for you?” He watched Dean’s expression. “I don’t mean this judge-y in any way. I mean, we’ve only known each other for like two weeks, so, yeah, if it was just a thing or something, that’s cool. I mean I’d be disappointed but—“

“You would?” Dean interrupted, carefully rubbing off the ash from his cigarette on the top of the tray.

Castiel stopped for a moment but then looked straight into the Winchester’s eyes. “Yes, yes I would. Because I would dry much like to get to know you better, Dean.” Castiel smiled. “You’re very intriguing.”

Dean chuckled. “Well, thank you. And yeah, I’d actually like to get to know you better, too. God, this sounds cheesy.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” They laughed.

After it died out Dean took a deep inhale and his voice was suddenly sterner. He turned towards Castiel. “Look, Cas, I wanna be true with you, okay? Because I’ve been trough this whole lying until it’s too late bullshit. And by now, even after two weeks, man, you know more about me than most other people. And I trust you. I’m not even sure why. I mean when we first met at practice I hated you, so much.” He laughed a little to himself, and Castiel smiled fondly at the memory. “But now I trust you. That’s not an easy thing for me to admit but I try to better myself.” He looked at Castiel who nodded, taking a drag of his cigarette afterwards.

Dean continued. “So, I want you to know, that I want to get to know you better, because I could really see us two work out, you know?” He send a small smile Castiel’s way and the boy beamed in response and nodded frantically. “And that’s why you need to understand that I’m leaving again late July.”

And Castiel’s face dropped and it shredded Dean’s heart. The boy slowly started to nod and look in the distance.

“I don’t want to leave, if that makes it any better, you know. At least not that soon, don’t know about living here for all my life ‘n shit but that’s way too far ahead to plan anyway, right? I mean like, I would like to stay here for a few years, finish school and all. But my Dad, his business, it takes him trough the country and—“ Dean trailed of and Castiel just softly smiled.

“You know, I’m sure we can handle distance. And for now end of July is still three months away. Three months of summer we have to get to know us better.” Castiel smiled and Dean’s heart was restored a little.

They continued drinking their coffees as if they were the most special and delicious drinks they had ever tasted.


	17. Sometimes we lie to protect. But do we protect ourselves or the ones we lie to?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Truth is beautiful: without doubt;  
> But so are lies.
> 
> — Ralph Emerson

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

_**Sometimes we lie to protect. But do we protect ourselves or the ones we lie to?** _

**Heaven, ca. 5.500 BC**

Castiel’s wings ached in sharp pain. He held in a scream but the the shear screeching sound traveled trough Angel transmission and was send to every Angel that had tuned in. His scream was that of desperation for help but he knew that he had to endure the procedure. The golden sword struck deeper trough the bone and hit the ground hard as it was broken off. It echoed like a hollow tree bark being bursted in half.

It wasn’t much of the wing that was cut off, but that didn’t make it any less traumatizing. Castiel wrapped the injured limb around himself and inspected the wound. It already healed up and his eyes wandered up to one of his new superiors, a Power. The being nodded and put the sword away. “You’re still good to make it to battle. Report to the Dominations.”

Castiel raised up from his knees with a lowered gaze. „And walk with pride.” The Power commanded, guiding the Angel to the exit with the tip of his sword. “You can lick your wounds once you’re dead.” Castiel’s already dead eyes stared forward and he made his way to the outside of the area. He tried to hold his wing up high with pride, hiding his suffering the best he could. Tests like these have been common for while now. To sort out the angels too fragile and hurt from the training, to still fight in Armageddon.

The new commanders were sending the sickest ones to unimportant suicide missions to demonstrate heaven‘s power to humans. The ones who were still able to fight either got further training or were allowed to participate in one of the more important missions on Earth. Castiel didn‘t know much about what they were for other than Heaven kept collecting souls on a high rate. Nobody knew how many being would be left standing at the end but the new leaders‘ maxim was that a few 200 thousand of the best were better than a million mediocre soldiers. 

Up until this day Castiel had been strong and lucky, even dismissive towards those who had not been able to endure training. The First Order, the Elders and Cherubim, had told them they were weak and Castiel had accepted them as the better, higher, more God-like celestials. They ruled heaven from God’s throne, advising heaven to greatness again, to their win in Armageddon.

He dragged himself to the Dominations, who would either send him to further training, or to Earth to fight. He noticed the wound on his wing still dripping silently, not yet fully recovered. It was healing slower than usual and a spark of fear entered him. Castiel had seen what some of his brothers, who started showing weakness, had to endure. He rarely ever seen an angel show any kind of emotion, let alone fear. But they were terrified. Most of them were send to Earth as some kind of celestial suicide bomber to place the fear of God inside humanity. So that every soul, devoured to Heaven, would one day be used as a shield or weapon in The War.

Castiel held his wings higher as he approached the Domination. It was one of his old superiors from before God left and the same who had stepped forward as the First Order took over.

„How do you feel, Castiel?“ He had remembered Castiel‘s name after the few thousand times the angel came to report back.

„I don’t feel.“ The angel replied and the Domination nodded approvingly.

„Show me your wing.“ Castiel rolled some feathers to the side in the hopes of hiding his not yet perfectly healed wound. It didn’t work. The other being brushed the feathers away and Castiel tried to read something inside his face, but there was nothing.

„You‘ll be going to Earth.“ There it was again, this weird seed of fear deep inside him. He wasn‘t going to be killed. He repeated it in his head. Castiel knew eternity but this moment seemed to hold time. „There will be a flooding. There where humans call the land Mesopotamia. Order‘s right now are to only save one family and a bunch of animals. The man is building an arch at the moment, he called himself Noah and believes he‘s speaking to God. Our angels down there are making sure that the water will take everyone. The story will set fear in them. They‘ll fear God and with that they will fear heaven and obey our next orders.“

Castiel moved his wing back and the seed deep down inside his being softened. The Domination continued speaking in a hissing tone. „Ever since they ate that awful apple humans have been less and less on our side. Free will was a mistake. But them knowing the difference between the Good and the Evil?“ The Domination scoffed. „Go down there, Castiel. You‘ve shown yourself as fearless. Proof to us you‘re still worthy and lead the other angels. Put the seed of worship in humanity. There are big plans ahead.“

Castiel nodded and the Domination‘s hand brushed over him. He felt the wing heal and something else appear on his back.

„This is your sword. Go now. Make heaven proud.“

And so Castiel flew down to what is now known as Iraq. The angel’s didn‘t question his higher authority, most of them had never seen Castiel before. It only hit him now, that if he failed that mission it would mean his death. And the fact that he didn‘t want to die, was something that he had to hide.

He wasn‘t willing to give his life. He may bowed to his superiors and did as they asked, he wasn‘t even particularly against their ideas, but would he die for them? None of the others questioned orders. Everyone accepted the new ranks with gritting teeth.

Castiel watched the sand blowing around the humans. They couldn‘t see him and the other angels. His brothers and sisters turned to him and asked „The animals are nearly loaded. It‘ll begin soon won‘t it?“

And Castiel could see the lust in their eyes and if he had a stomach it would‘ve turned. The angels weren‘t just on board with the flood, they were eagerly awaiting it. Castiel told them to keep their patience and to remember the cause of their doings. The big plan.

God had always told their rank, they were this close to humanity to keep it safe. And now Castiel told them that they had to remember exactly that. They had to do it not because they wanted to, but because the new found fear would keep humanity safer in the long run. If they feared heaven, they‘d live eternity in paradise after their earthly lives had ended. They were still protecting humanity.

The other angels nodded, looking at each other. When the last animal was aboard, and the night had come to lay over the deserted land, Castiel pulled out the sword from behind his back.

The water flooded every house and every village. It rose slowly and the storm began to brew from far away. He could sense the fear in the human‘s souls and he despised their weakness. Didn‘t they understand that something much better was to come? Did they really have this little faith?

The water rose higher and higher and took the first lives, their lungs full of salty waters. The angels showed themselves and carried up the souls to heaven, not waiting for the reaper‘s to decide if they belonged to heaven or hell in the first place.

Castiel made the waters more disturbed, bigger crashing waves of it coming down on them. The boat in the far distance struggled to keep afloat. When he saw that every angel was following their orders where he stood he flew toward the ship.

The waves crashed against the weak wood. The few humans aboard fell to their knees as they saw Castiel appear as a dim light to them. Noah, the father of them, offered his body as a holy vessel and the second Castiel entered he knew that the body was too weak, but that was non of his concern.

The family were the most holy of the whole land, that‘s why they were chosen to build the arch. Castiel wanted to do good, they deserved to enter heaven just as much as the other souls, if not more. He rose the waves even higher and the sky was blackened with dark clouds. The reaming humans begged, laying to their father‘s feet and Castiel didn‘t understand.

Even they had no faith. Weren‘t they awaiting heaven?

The boat sank and Castiel, together with his vessel, flew to land. He left the weak man‘s body. Told him God wanted Noah to tell the story. Spread the word that faith will save your soul.

His body shook but Castiel didn‘t detect any physical illness that he could cure. So he left the scene, calling the other angels with him, souls ready to get carried to heaven, leaving only one man to tell the tale.

His superiors where more than pleased with his interpretation of the order. Soon they‘d raise his rank inside his order. Castiel became one of the few Archangels.

**The convent, 2015**

**Sam Winchester**

_Hey Dean I‘ll be home in a few_

_Are you there?_

**Dean Winchester**

_No not at the moment. You can ask for a key at the reception_

_Is everything okay?_

**Sam Winchester**

_Yes :) And im sorry for running off like that_

Dean sighed, putting the phone back in his pocket. „Everything alright?“ Jody asked looking upwards. Dean was standing on a smaller ladder, a few freed cables dangling above his head.

„All good Mrs. Mills.“ He smiled. „Just my little brother checking in.“ He reached back up to the cables and adjusted the last little things. „Could you try to ring the bell again?“ The nun nodded and moved outside, Dean covered his ears and sure enough the loud noise ran trough the convent again.

Jody got back inside and smiled. „Amazing!“ Dean pushed the cables back behind the wall, covering the hole with the bell. It really wasn‘t much work, Jody could‘ve probably handled it by herself if she just googled for a few minutes. Really only a few cables were kind of loosened and all Dean really did was fixated them better.

„There wasn‘t much wrong with it. Pretty much just a loose screw.“ He admitted and climbed down the small ladder and rubbed his hands together. Dust from the ceiling had fallen onto his hair.

„I can’t thank you enough for this. It’s been bothering me for so long but try and get a mechanic around here. And if I would’ve alles Bobby for something like this he would probably start crying.“

Dean chuckled at that and nodded. „Out of frustration, probably, yeah. But really, Mrs. Mills, this was nothing. You gave me such a nice Dinner, this is my way of thanking you.“

Jody looked shocked and scoffed. „Oh, boy, don’t be stubborn. You worked and you’re going to get paid! Just wait here.“ Dean wanted to say something but Jody just thanked him again and made her way towards another hall, that Dean hadn‘t walked down yet.

Dean shook his head to himself, letting his shoulder slouch down a bit. He started to clean up his tools when he heard someone coming down the stairs. „So you‘re really handy, huh?“ Castiel smiled and Dean couldn’t help it but smirk back. It was as if his body automatically reacted this way, whenever Castiel was around. There was something so addictive about his smile, like caffeine.

„They say I‘m good at a lot of things.“ Dean tried to play his obvious crush off a little, to not push Castiel‘s ego.

„And I‘m sure I shouldn’t ask who ‚they‘ are, right?“ He came closer to Dean and smiled mischievously. It had been three days since they first kissed and they pretty much spend most of their days with each other since.

„I couldn‘t tell you, if I wanted to.“ Dean said, riffling his nose. „They‘re all secret agents, you know?“ He leaned toward Castiel and his voice grew smaller.

„Mhm, I‘m sure they are.“ Cas said, but his eyes were only fixed on Dean‘s lips. The other boy gave a small peck on them, and Castiel could feel Dean‘s smile on his mouth before they parted.

„I would never lie to you, Cassie.“

Castiel rose his eyebrows at the nickname, but blushed a little. „I know you wouldn‘t.“ He quickly gave him another kiss on the cheek before Jody returned.

„Oh, Cas. I didn‘t even hear you coming back. I thought you were out with Charlie or I would‘ve called you when Dean got here. Do you guys need to practice?“

Castiel shook his head. „No, actually. Dean got quite a bit better at his defense. One of our best team mates already.“

„Oh, already?“ Jody asked with slightly widened eyes. Before Dean could dismiss the compliments Castiel continued talking.

He said „Yes, it‘s like he‘s done this before. But maybe he‘s just a natural talent.“ Playfully he bumped into his side and laughed.

And there it dawned on Dean once more that Jody was fully aware of his world and everything he had already done. Castiel beamed beside him, the same man he told mere seconds ago that he would never lie to him. Jody looked at Dean from under her eyebrows and he saw that something inside them switched. She still smiled but when she talked Dean could hear the underlying tone of it.

„A natural talent, indeed.“ She said and Dean gulped. Castiel was completely oblivious to anything that was going on at this moment.

„Well,“ he started, turning to Dean. „Do you want to stay for a while? I could help you with the English assignment, if you want to.“

Again Dean was cut off by Jody. „He‘ll be right up, sweetie. I just need to give him the money for fixing the bell. Dean,“ she looked at him sternly. „Could you come into the kitchen with me? I think I left my purse there.

The hunter nodded and followed her suit. Castiel on the other hand didn‘t question any of the actions happening before him and just made his way upstairs. The stairs creaked as usual. The thought of stopping midway to listen to their conversation didn‘t cross his mind and so he simply closed the door behind him, waiting for Dean.

Yet Dean sat down in front of Jody at the table, feeling like he was being interrogated. He felt his muscles tighten and his shoulders were right up there with his ears. He tried to hold a confident stance, with his chest forward and his chin up, but he would always resume into his protective position, looking up at Jody, instead of down.

„Dean,“ She began and there was a tiresome momentum in her voice. Dean would later, when revising their conversation in his head, be able to pinpoint it as concern. But in the moment it occurred, her voice seemed stronger to him than ever. „I don‘t even know where to start. There are many things.“ She sighed.

The anticipation build up and the boy in front of her started to chew his own tongue. „The most obvious thing first: I know you and Castiel are...together, I suppose. He hasn‘t told me yet, but you two are not as sneaky as you think you are.“

And in that moment the wooden cross around her neck seemed like a spear to his heart. Castiel had never talked about her beliefs as directly, but now he couldn‘t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Jody was against it. She saw his narrowed eyebrows and immediately loosened her intimidating posture.

„Oh God,“ she looked down at the cross. „I‘m not- I don‘t...“ She looked for her words and struggled to find them, until she led out a deep sigh. „Dean, I don’t mind that he‘s gay. This is not that kind of talk.“ She smiled. „I‘m just here to tell you that, while I respect your privacy, I will have an eye on you. And this is the other thing I wanted to talk about. Castiel doesn‘t know about any kind of supernatural. As far as I know he believes in God and that‘s it. Everything else... I don‘t want him to know, is what I‘m trying to say.“

She looked at her hands, her thumbs rubbing against each other and suddenly she looked so very small again. „Bobby. I know him because a few years ago, well rather decades, there was a werewolf pack here. They targeted the convent and he and his friends saved us. Can you imagine how that traumatized me? And finding out about angels and demons? How that caused my faith to crumble in a way that I never–“ She choked up and her hands instinctively grabbed the crucifix, holding it tight.

Dean leaned forward, slowly as if he didn‘t want to scare away a shy cat. He placed his hands in front of her, folded together. „Jody, I don‘t want him to know. I haven‘t known Castiel for long but... I don‘t want to hurt him. Or drag him into this world. It breaks me, lying to him, even just for those few weeks now. But there’s something about him, some kind of joy that he radiates, and I would never forgive myself for taking that away.“ She looked up, a softness in her eyes and the corners of her lips twitched ever so slightly. She nodded, barley noticeable, and reached out for Dean‘s hands. She bit down on her lips before squeezing his hands.

„Thank you.“ She mumbled, clearly suppressing approaching tears. „I‘m just scared for him, you know. For so many reasons.“

Dean nodded. „I‘m scared, too. I will never put him in any kind of danger, I promise you that. I normally don‘t allow myself to get this...involved. For my own sake, you know, always leaving again after a few weeks or so, but for everyone else’s sake, too. I just, I took this risk this time, and I‘m glad I did.“

She nodded and let his hands go, wiping her eyes dry again. „Okay, okay.“ She pulled her purse out and handed Dean some money.

„Oh, Jody, I can‘t—“ Dean started as he unfolded the $50 bill.

„Yes, you can. Castiel tells me some things, at least. Buy your brother some nice food, okay?“ He nodded and stood up.

„I should probably go upstairs now.“

„Yes, yes you should.“ Jody stayed at the kitchen table as Dean made his way outside. The old staircase creaked like it always did and he made a mental note of asking Jody, if she would like it fixed. Dean still didn‘t know many of the rooms within the broad halls upstairs.

„Dean, I wanna show you something.“ He heard Castiel‘s voice calling out from the other direction. The evening sun fell into the corridor and for a second Dean felt like he was walking inside a movie. The dust particles danced in the rays of sunshine, two other nuns passed his way and smiled at him softly. His feet just guided him towards his destination, as if someone was controlling his moves.

He suddenly smiled, wider than ever, as he turned the corner. „Where are you?“

„In here!“ Castiel called again. There were two wide doors opened to the outside and Dean went towards them. There he saw Castiel sitting on a bench. The room was one of the small chapels of the convent. Castiel sat in the first row, on the right side of the bench.

When he heard Dean approaching, he turned around. The sun fell onto his hair, colored red after it fell trough the mosaic of the windows. „Come here.“ He smiled softly, tapping the seat next to him.

With a few repressed steps Dean came closer to Castiel, looking around the room. His feet felt heavier than before, it was an rather unusual situation and it made him feel vulnerable. But for once, when looking at the smile on his friend‘s lips, he just knew, that feeling vulnerable was allowed.

The corners of his lips twitched up again and the sudden urge to let a tear fall down appeared out of nowhere. Gently he fell down besides Castiel and smiled at him. He must‘ve stared because Castiel cocked his head and wondered „What‘s going on with you.“

„Oh, nothing.“ Dean smiled. „You‘re just very beautiful.“ Castiel‘s lips parted and closed again, the need to say something was replaced by a simple chuckle. Dean wasn‘t sure if his cheeks turned red as he looked down, since the taint of the window dunked the whole room into a warm blush. „What did you want to show me?“

„This.“ Castiel gestured around and Dean‘s eyes followed. „I know you‘re not really religious. And don‘t think I‘m trying to change that! I just know that there‘s quite a few things going on in your life right now and—“ Cas looked him in the eyes and took his hand that rested on the bench. He gently squeezed it. „This place, I just always feel relieved here. And I thought that maybe, it could be the same for you. A safe place, just to be you.“

Dean smiled, definitely feeling the lump in his throat now. He squeezed back, running his thumb over Castiel‘s palm. His hands were much softer than the hunter‘s. Castiel felt the rough skin on his own, he loved the touch. Dean cocked his head up towards the cross.

„It‘s really nice here. Maybe we should come here more often.“ He felt Castiel resting his head on his shoulder, snuggling into the space between his neck. Softly Dean leaned into it, allowing his muscles to relax.

„We should.“ Castiel said. „I‘m glad you like this. I wasn‘t sure, if you would.“

Dean chuckled, more to himself than at Castiel‘s statement. „How could I not? After all, you are here. And that look on your face can‘t compare to anything. If that‘s the way God makes you feel...How could I not like it?“


	18. Bad dreams, bad realities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can‘t explain how much I love this story. It pains me, that I can‘t find the time to writer regular and proper updates. I hope you still enjoy these small chapters.   
> I try my best I swear!
> 
> Thank you for keeping up with the story <3

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

_**Bad dreams, bad realities** _

**The convent, the same night, 2015**

They had gently fallen asleep on Castiel‘s bed. His seemingly so small head rested softly on Dean‘s chest as it moved up and down with his shallow breaths. When Dean‘s eyelids jittered open the room was dark, as the sun had set a while ago. A warm yellow came from the streetlights but it only shone indirectly into the back yard. A few golden glimmers met the leaves of the trees Dean could see trough the bedroom window.

He looked at Castiel‘s ruffled hair first before he turned his head gently to the side to see the time on the clock: 9 pm.

When he moved back Castiel grunted at the sudden movement but didn’t wake. Dean smiled to himself. The arm Castiel was resting on had fallen asleep under his weight but Dean did not mind the feeling. He could still move his hand slowly up and down Castiel‘s back. Although his dream seemed to continued sweetly at first, soon Dean would noticed his friend‘s fastened breath.

It seemed that Castiel had problems finding his breath as he yelped continuously. Concerned Dean sat up straight, holding Cas by his shoulders. He tried to put his head down gently on the mattress. He started shaking him to wake him up. But Castiel kept turning, yelping, pushing words out of his collapsed lungs.

Suddenly Castiel’s hand grabbed his arm and the other grabbed the sweetly bed cloth. The fingernails pressed into his skin to a point where Dean flinched of pain. He tried to shake him awake one more time before carefully hitting agains his cheeks, in an effort to get him to wake. It changed nothing and Dean was so filled with panic he thought about calling out for help.

But then, faster than he could’ve bargained for, Castiel shot awake. Sitting on his elbows he gasped for breath. A wave of relief hit Dean and he snapped out of his mind. His rough fingers laid around Castiel‘s face, forcing the blue eyed angel to look at him. It worked and Castiel found something peaceful in Dean‘s eyes. A sort of glow or meaning that spread across his face as he looked this way. Castiel‘s breath became deeper and slower before Dean let go.

He fell back between the sheets, exhausted from a nightmare. Dean had said nothing since his breath calmed, and only sweet nothings before. Simply he reached for the bottle of water on the bedside and handed it to Cas, who gladly took it. His throat felt like a bush of thorns.

„Nightmare?“ Dean simply asked after Castiel had sat up straight in bed. Their legs were halfway intertwined as they sat in front of each other.

Castiel nodded. He tried to push out a small „Yes.“ but the word faded as his throat closed up so he took another sip.

„Wanna talk about it?“ Dean grabbed Castiel‘s free hand. The other boy looked at them, their fingers curled up. He ran his thumb over Dean‘s skin and pressed gently. Dean pressed back, causing a faint smile to erupt on his lips that disappeared again once he thought about his dream again.

Castiel nodded again. „You won‘t tell anyone?“

„Not a soul.“ The answer shot from Dean‘s mouth without a single contemplation behind it.

„I keep dreaming about _The Night_.“

„What night?“ Castiel kept staring down at their hands and Dean slightly tilted his head in an effort to meet Castiel‘s eyes again.

Castiel looked up and tried to swallow but his throat was still to dry and it felt like his own tongue was about to roll down his pipe.

„I told you about my family dying, right?“ Dean nodded. „They were murdered, I think. And I keep—“ He broke off in a muffled cry. Instinctively Dean pressed harder on his hand. There was a weight on his heart he never felt before. This helplessness of a loved one in pain.

„You don’t have to tell me.“

But Castiel shook his head. „You deserve to know. You need to know who I am before you get with me, you deserve that much. And I trust you.“ At a loss of words Dean just nodded and let Castiel continue. „I keep dreaming about things I never remembered before. Things I shouldn‘t be able to remember. They‘re not making any sense. But they feel so real, like it happened.“ He looked around into himself, squinting his eyes and forcing those memories back. „The worst part is the smell. Their guts are everywhere, fucking splattered across the room. And this poor—“ He inhaled sharply trough his gritted teeth as he pressed away a tear. „This girl just lays there, a man hovering above her with a knife. I‘ve never seen one like it before, it was like a long and sharp pyramid of stainless steel. The lights reflected off it and unto her body and I can...I can see her spine coming trough the cut on her throat. That‘s how deep it is. It smells rotten. I never smelled anything in any other dreams but this one.“

After he finished Castiel was brave enough to look at Dean again. The boy just sat there. An outer struggle on his face but an inner struggle was there too. He knew the smell, the visuals, the feeling. He could relate but he could never admit to it. „I can‘t imagine what—“

Castiel interrupted and stared Dean right into his eyes. He hadn‘t been hearing what came out of his mouth. He wasn’t sure if he should say what he was thinking.

Dean stopped talking at the sight of Castiel‘s look. The boy let go of his hand and Dean instantly felt cold and left behind. Castile tucked on the collar of his shirt, pulling it down so the scar above his heart was revealed.

„I remember this.“ He whispered under his choked breath, but his eyes were dry as he kept staring deep into Dean‘s eyes. „But I remember stabbing myself.“

Dean furrowed his brows. „No, how could that...? Cas, how should you have done this to yourself? At that age?“

Castiel shrugged letting go of the collar, his hands found each other in his lap. He looked down again. „It was slow but sure. I don‘t remember it hurting. Every time I dream of this I can remember what I felt like. When I got picked up, the breeze on my skin when I was carried outside. I can remember how I felt trough all of it but this. I felt nothing.“

Dean didn‘t know what advice to give. „It was just a nightmare, Cas.“

And he could see the doubt in his eyes starting to form. The boy exhaled and his shoulders relaxed and slouched down a bit. „I‘m sure you‘re right it just...“

„Still sucks?“

„Yeah.“

Dean pulled him into a hug without a warning. Cas smelled of cold sweat but under that he smelled the roses, faint but there. His body was warm and he was afraid to hug too tight as if he was afraid to squish a butterfly‘s wings.

**[10:53 pm]**

**Sam Winchester**

_Are you coming home tonight?_

**Dean Winchester**

_On my way right now. I‘m sorry I took so long_

_I fell asleep_

**Sam Winchester**

_It‘s okay Dean_

_See you soon :)_

**[11:09 m]**

**John Winchester**

_I have a training exercise_

_Day after tomorrow. I pick you up at four_

**Dean Winchester**

_Yes, sir._

The stairs up to the motel room glowed a bright red. The neon lights from the signs reflected on the metal. The grayish green of the walls nearly looked good, if the paint wouldn’t fall off it. When Dean opened the door Sam already laid in bed, sleeping. The TV was turned on and some cartoon Dean didn‘t recognize was running on it. His brother clearly had tried to stay awake but failed.

Gently Dean tucked him into the sheets and turned off the TV. The room fell quiet and as Dean set there in the dark on that old moldy mattress he started to think about these past days. Things had seemed to be starting to fall back into place up until John‘s message.

He sighed and took out the money Jody had given him. Soon he would have to pay for the rent again, and food was a luxury still. But he had two jobs now, his brother was back and he met a wonderful boy, who brought cheerfulness into his life. Dean knew that nothing ever stayed good, when John got involved.

He just hoped this time it would only effect him.


	19. Roadkill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And suddenly you long;  
> but for something other than expected from you.

_**CHAPTER SIXTEEN** _

_**Roadkill** _

**The Motel room, 2015**

"Promise you won't do anything stupid." Dean stuffed the last few things inside his duffle bag. He had a stern look on his face as he stared down at Sam. The young boy had kicked up his legs and sat relaxed on the bed.

His feet danced around a bit as he rolled his eyes. The tips of his finger kept playing with each other, trying to overplay the actual emotion at hand. Or rather the mix of emotion. "I promise." Sam sighed, picking at the skin around his nails.

Dean didn't specifically pick up on anything but in the pit of his stomach he had this feeling. Concerned he looked up at his little brother, knowing that he was bothered. There was a sense of pity in his look and he sighed.

"I'm sure next time you can come with," Dean explained, zipping the bag shut. "I'd rather stay here than go."

"That's just because you always get to go."

Dean let the handles of the bag fall back down. He sighed again and made his way over to where his brother sat. Sam didn't look up from his hands, not even when Dean sat down next to him. "Listen, I really want to stay. But you know how he gets. I asked if you could come but he said no, there's nothing I can do."

Slowly Sam looked up. "I know." He slowly started to shake his head in frustration. "Just wish we could both go, or both stay here."

Dean smiled. "I'm glad to hear that, buddy." He roughed up Sam's hair and the boy chuckled. Dean went back and grabbed the bag, swinging the heavy load over his shoulder, almost effortlessly. "Let's go through this once more."

"I got everything I need in the cabinet. No, I won't open it unless I have to. I won't go outside after 8. Yes, I really won't." Dean smiled and looked down. "I got Bobby's number. I will text him and you every few hours, if I stay with Jess I'll let you know, too."

Dean nodded. "And?"

"And if anything is urgent I'll call Cas."

Dean smiled and nodded again. A deep exhale came from his throat and his hands hit the sides of his legs. "Then I'll better get going before Dad has to wait."

Sam agreed and watched as Dean went outside. He held the doorknob between his finger, ready to close the door and make his way. But there was one more thing coming, one more little sentence that meant the world.

Dean was already with his back to Sam as his little brother mumbled "And come back in one piece."

Dean smiled, "As always." he promised, before he let the door fall shut.

Outside the sky let people know that the approaching day was going to be a good one. The blue was clear, not even a morning fog clouding the air. And trough the first rays of the morning sun Dean watched the familiar black Impala rise at the horizon.

And suddenly the weather felt wrong because Dean could feel clouds coating his mind. The immediate urge for a heavy rainfall overcame him and for the first time in a while he damned the sun.

The closer the car drove towards the Motel, the quicker his heartbeat became. John didn't say a thing when Dean entered the car. Not even a simple nod; Dean might as well have been the air that rushed through the open car window.

It wasn't until they were in the middle of a long road and far from any houses that John spoke up. "Singer told you about angels?"

His voice didn't change in tone and the man held the steering wheel tight. His eyes laid on the road, fixated and empty.

"Yes, sir." Dean answered after a short while of contemplating. He didn't want to incriminate Bobby, but John seemed sure of his question. He didn't ask it in hopes of a clarification; he already knew the answer. He often did that.

"Good. So you know the important parts. There are a few of them close by and no other hunters ready to take them up."

Dean nodded.

"Don't fuck this up again. I only have one blade. You'll have to distract them while I do the actual job. Understand?"

"Yes, sir." Dean waited for a moment to make sure his father was done talking. He clenched his teeth, the familiar fear of saying something from crept up inside of him. It had hidden deep down inside his stomach already. Around Castiel he had felt so welcomed and safe these past weeks, he nearly pushed down his terror far enough to forget how it felt.

Carefully he added. "Do we know why they're on Earth again?"

John's headshot Dean's way for a brief second, staring into his eyes. Through gritted teeth he spoke "No. That's what I'm trying to figure out" before he looked back onto the road.

On the horizon Dean watched the hot air dance above the asphalt. The morning sun burned at an unusually high degree.

"Last time, like nearly a decade ago, those twats came down here to collect souls. I got to one of them and he talked some shit about a Civil War, needing them for his side. Who knows what shit their up to now."

Dean sank down a little deeper on the leathery seat. He felt the warmth it radiated against his cheek. Ashe leaned against it, his gaze wandered outside. They passed wide acres of land: some green grass fields, some yellow beds of rapeseed.

And when he focused on the Led Zeppelin tracks that came through the radio, with his eyes on nature and his mind with Castiel; the car ride nearly seemed to be alright. Things seemed to be alright.

**The convent, 2015**

**Castiel Novak**

_Hey Sam. Dean gave me your number, I hope that's okay. He was kind of insisting on it._

_Anyway, do you want to come over and eat dinner with us? There's way too much for only us anyway_

**Sam Winchester**

_I'd love to come over!_

_Also, Dean told you to ask me, didn't he?_

**Castiel Novak**

_He was /really/ insisting haha_

**Sam Winchester**

_Yeah, that's how he is haha. I'm on my way, Dean write down the address :)_

When Dean had first asked Castiel to invite Sam over to for Dinner, Castiel chuckled. He couldn't see Dean's serious expression over the phone.

"It's not a joke, Cas." Dean had sighed. "I just don't like him to be alone. I'm sure he'll drive to his girlfriend as soon as possible."

Castiel had cleared his throat. He could hear the heavy breaths coming from the other end of the line. Frantically Dean rearranged the Motel room to make the weapons easier to access. He even sprayed over ever single sigil, again and again, to make sure they wouldn't fade. All while Sam was at his book club.

"Of course, I'll text him. Jody will sure be okay with it, too." He chuckled a little again and it was clear that Dean was relieved.

"Thank you. I wouldn't know what I'd do without you." Dean had stopped moving things around after having said this. He just looked into the nothingness with a faint smile on his lips, imaging the blue eyes in front of him. The warmth in the pit of his stomach was growing wider with every second he spent either with Cas or thinking about Cas. His life had become more bearable ever since that angel entered his life.

"For you I'd do anything." Castiel joked, but there was more truth to it than either of them realized at the moment."And you're sure you can't come over again tonight?"

And sadly Dean denied. Charlie had another job for him about a broken sink, there were so many things still to pack and Sam needed Dinner when he came home.

"And I can't come over?"

Dean sighed. "I don't want you to." He whispered. "It's dirty and— I don't know."

"But I don't care" Castiel tried to convince him. "My room is dirty too."

Dean had to smile a little at the naivety. With dirty he didn't mean a little bit of dust and half-read books lying on the floor. He meant weird smells, the begging of mold, a hole in the ceiling, and splattering color from the fridge, that leaked a little.

"Your room is clean, don't lie." Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "How about maybe when I come back? Then I have time to clean up a little."

"I'd like that. I wanna see how you live, you know. It's a bit weird, that I don't know that."

"I suppose so," Dean answered, looking around the room. "Just don't dump me when you see this shit hole."

"Wouldn't we need to be together for me to dump you?" Cas asked a little quieter, a smirk on his lips.

The same kind of grin found its way onto Dean's lips. "Let's also talk about this, when I come back. How does that sound?"

"Like a dream, Dean Winchester."

"Well, then-" Dean smiled to himself. "I hope it's not a nightmare."

"And I hope I won't wake up."

The line was silent for a while, just the two of them breathing. Then a normal conversation started up and they talked about the wrestling team, Alan Watts, and their days for another while before hanging up.

**Cas**

_Sam just came over. We're having dinner soon._

_How's your trip?_

**Dean**

_Thanks again for doing this_

_and it's okay I guess haha_

**Cas**

_ouch. that bad?_

_do you know where you're going now?_

**Dean**

_A small town a few more miles south_

_sales are down in the city and john wants to show me how to handle that_

**Cas**

_Ah._

_Well, I hope it's not so hard. When will you be back?_

**Dean**

_Two or three days I think_

_could be more tho_

**Cas**

_oh so you'll miss school on Monday? that sucks_

**Dean**

_Yeah can't do anything about it_

**Cas**

_your dad shouldn't put u out of school like that imo_

**Dean**

_Well, I have to learn somehow. He means well._

_I won't need school for my life anyway._

**Cas**

_Ah yes. Taking over the family business of selling hunting gear_.

**Dean**

_That sounds awfully sarcastic but yes_

_anyway I gotta go. don't know how often I can reply the next few days_

**Cas**

_It's okay! Stay safe <3_

_See you soon :)_

**Dean**

_See you <3_

When Castiel closed the chat Jody was already done setting the table. She just put down the last plate, looking at Castiel a little judgmental.

"Sorry." He mumbled, looking up to her. "I texted Dean that you arrived well." He said to Sam who sat on the other end of the table.

"Thank you. And again I really hope I don't bother anyone. Dean can sometimes be a little too protective."

"Oh, sweetie, you could never." Jody smiled, sitting down herself. "The more the merrier."

They started eating and Castiel tried to think of something to ask. Something that could work up a simple conversation but nothing that could be too personal.

"Dean told me you'll stay with your girlfriend while he's gone?"

"Oh, yeah, Eileen. They'll pick me up in around seven and I'll stay the weekend with them."

"That's really nice. Will Dean be back by Monday?" Jody asked, looking between Cas and Sam.

Cas shook his head. "He just texted me, it'll probably be around three days."

"A long trip."

Sam nodded. "Yes, sometimes John needs help with the business. He mostly asks Dean to help tough."

"If he's not back by Monday evening do you want to join us again?"

Sam nodded, mouth too stuffed with smashed potatoes to talk. Castiel just smiled and thought to himself, _So it's a family trait._

**Some abandoned warehouse, 2015**

There was little to no preparation. Suddenly it was night. A dark wand of clouds laid over the small down. The horizon behind the abandoned warehouse was thick and black. Dean didn‘t have the chance to ask any more questions, he just saw the broad shoulders of his father move towards the heavy steel door. John carried the angel blade hidden under his sleeves.

He had instructed Dean to carry a shotgun, it wouldn‘t do anything against angels, but it could throw them off. They‘d think the hunters had nothing on them, and John had a greater chance of killing them.

With small but fast steps Dean tried to catch up. He only now realized his lungs clenching as if a tight rope narrowed around them, closing them shut. Dean felt his fingers trembling on the trigger of the gun. The older Winchester boy was a good hunter, sure if he‘d grow into this life he was going to be one of the best. But never in his life had he encountered an angel, let alone three of them.

He held the gun tighter, his fingers pressing hard against the cold metal. Every gram of its weight suddenly was so prominent. There was no simple emotion in him right now. Maybe it was fright, maybe disappointment, maybe even sadness.

But one thing was clear, and it kept repeating itself in Dean‘s mind like a manifestation: You’re not safe.

And it stung because Dean wanted to feel safe again, he wanted to be able to show weakness, to take a hit, to have someone tell him he had done well; and all of that without fearing for his life. He was accustomed to that fear, of course, but it was so much different when you were about to encounter something unknown.

It kicked Dean back to the first time he ever hunted, and he felt like that unwise kid again, with all that worry in his chest. Angels? What was he even doing here? John would let him die, he surely didn‘t care one bit. The only reason Dean was even here, was because John needed someone to have his back in case things got ugly. Or rather a human shield.

And all Dean could think about was how badly he wanted to see his brother again.

He just wanted to sit with Castiel, again, on those hard wooden benches in the small chapel. He wanted to feel the warm sun falling trough the mosaic windows.

He wasn’t going to die, he couldn’t.

Then John swung open the hard stell door with one kick. It echoed through the empty building like a wave. There was no one to be seen, everything was abandoned.

Dean made the mistake to relax as they moved closer into the facility. When John observed the small sigil that had been drawn on the ground something in his position changed. But before he could say anything three men came from different corners of the room.

While John managed to immediately stab the one man that was running towards him, another grabbed him by his throat. There was no fight, the angels easily lifted the grown men from the ground. His feet dangled a few millimeters above the surface, as muffled chokes were pressed trough his throat. Instead of snapping his neck right then and there, the man watched him, watched the life draining from his life, and the sheer terror in them when John realized that his end was near. His toes searched for the ground but every time they even touched it slightly, his body was moved another millimeter upwards.

Dean did not see any of it. He heard the chokes but only subconsciously. There was a loud bang when he shot his gun. The bullet hit the man right in the chest but it didn’t do as much as startle him. Then he was just gone, disappeared into thin air. Only to appear again, behind Dean this time.

The creature had a blade of his own. Dean was quick enough to jump to the side as the angel reached around him, cutting through his shirt and into his skin.

From his hips up to his chest: one skewed cut across his torso. The adrenaline rushed through his veins, his body kicking in every survival instinct he had. If he hadn’t jumped to the side it would’ve been a clean cut across his throat.

Then there was another bright light. Dean blinked a few times trough it, only then seeing his shirt soaking up the blood. He didn’t feel any pain just yet, but even if, that wouldn’t have been of any concern at the moment. The angel in front of him was occupied looking at the fading light, so Dean took the chance and shot him a second time.

The creature stumbled back two steps before catching his balance again. Then, like a robot, his head turned towards Dean, with a clenched jaw. And Dean froze on the spot, as the man came walking towards him.

Dean wanted to move, but he couldn’t. For a second he thought he was maybe frozen with fear, but then he realized that slowly the air was being pushed out of his lungs. It was a force he never felt, as if someone placed their palm on his air pipe and pushed upwards. He gasped, dried and shallow screams, when he fell to his knees.

The angel stood above him, eyes glowing a bright blue, one hand rolled to a fist. He watched as the tears shaped in Dean’s eyes.

Then, out of nowhere, it stopped. And Dean fell on his hands, gasping for air. But there was no bright light like there was when the other two had died, just a deep scream that echoed through the warehouse.

When Dean looked up he saw John, pulling out his blade from the angel’s thigh. He used the moment of shock and pain to put handcuffs on the creature. And it seemed like now it was simply a man, no powers, only able to fight with his body, hands tied behind his back.

“Enochian handcuffs.” John spat out blood. “I have some questions.”

When John was done chaining the angel to an old chair, he pulled out the blade again, swinging it around his hand. “It’s going to be simple, Cupid. I ask questions, you answer. If you don’t I’ll stab you.”

“You can try to torture me. I’ve endured worse for millennia.”

John nodded, pacing around the chair in circles. “Sure you have. But nothing quite like this. And the best part is: I promise you, you’ll die. It’s just a matter of how quick you make it for yourself.”

The angel looked at him through narrowed eyes, then behind him to Dean. The boy was still on the floor, gasping for breath and holding his chest. Thickened blood running through his fingers.

“I make you another offer. How about I patch up your son there? And you let me walk.”

John looked at Dean, then back to the angel with a crooked smile. “Dean?” He called out.

Dean just grunted as an answer, suppressing his urge to scream.

John continued, saying every word while looking the angel directly into his eyes, a smile on his lips. “Get up, walk half a mile, until you see the next road sign. Call a hospital, tell them an animal attacked you in the surrounding woods.”

Dean’s mind was blank, no energy was left in his body to speak against his father now. So he just got up, flinching through the pain. Without another word he dragged himself towards the road. The cold air of the night felt refreshing on his burning face. He was covered in blood, dirt, and sweat. He could see his breath in front of them.

He dragged one foot after the other, moving maybe 200 meters down the road before he felt the sharp pain enter his body. He fumbled for his phone, dialing 911. He smeared blood over it and the bright screen illuminated it from behind.

Maybe another 200 meters further down, right after he told the woman on the phone the name of the road, he broke down again. By now every movement hurt like hell and stung like a dozen bees at ones. He only heard a ringing noise in his ears, hoping that soon he’d hear the sirens, too.

Before he finally passed out on the side of the road, he realized that the screams he heard from the distance were his own.


	20. Meaning Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you see the good in people,  
> even when there’s nothing to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter at the end :)

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

**Meaning good**

_**The convent, Monday night, 2015** _

It was Monday evening, Sam had just left the convent again. Neither he or Castiel had heard from Dean since he left. Castiel knew that he was probably busy but the slight fear on Sam’s face when he had asked him about it - it was unsettling to say the least.

**Cas**

_Don’t want to spam you any more than I already have so_

_I hope you’re having fun on your trip_

_Have delightful dreams <3_

Castiel drew his notebook from under his mattress. There were already a few brief paragraphs doodled on the paper. He took the pen from in between the folded pages and started rereading his written down letters.

_Friday_

_It’s four am I think. I feel bizarre, I won’t ever tell you this but I feel like something dreadful happened._

_I just got that kind of suspicion, you know? I don’t even want to speculate about it._

_I hope you’re alright. I prayed for you tonight, I wonder if you would mind._

_Saturday_

_You haven’t answered me but I hate spamming our chat. I don’t want to be upsetting._

_I wish I knew you were okay but then again there’s no reason for me to not believe that, right?_

_The Sun is already setting. I have to think of you. Someday we have to watch the sunset and sunrise._

_We only ever really watched the moon together._

_It’s the middle of the night and I can’t stop thinking about you._

_Fuck, Dean Winchester, I really want you here._

_Will you be my boyfriend? It sounds so cheesy_

_I hope you like cheesy_

_Sunday_

_I had another nightmare. I think I should tell this to my therapist_

_I wish you would’ve been here to comfort me. I miss you_

_It’s the middle of the day so maybe it’s the hot sun but the rose keeps loosing pedals_

_I already checked if it was sick, but I could find nothing_

_I hope it’ll be better soon._

_Sam just texted me. He’ll come by tomorrow evening for dinner._

_You still haven’t answered me but just in case I texted you._

_you’re more than welcome to join. I hope I’ll see you walk through the door tomorrow_

_Monday_

_School today sucked_

_Charlie asked where you were, I told her out of town_

_I hope that was okay to say_

_We both miss you, I just wish you would finally answer me_

_I took a nap. I listened to Alan Watts before I fell asleep_

_He said every human is the universe experiencing itself_

_I thought about that a lot._

Castiel set down the pen and began to write the new message

_Sam will come to Dinner tomorrow again. I think he feels lonely in that motel room_

_He also seems worried, frankly so am I. But he tried to underplay it_

_You didn’t show up for dinner, I should’ve known._

_I hope you answer soon, I feel sick to my stomach. Why did I even say I had the feeling something bad happened?_

_I hope to God you’re alright. The rose keeps losing petals._

_I think I’ll pray for you again but prayers never felt so useless to me. I wish I could do more._

Those few sentences took him minutes to write. He felt the need to write more, all of his thoughts, but just in case Dean would ever read those or find them, he didn’t want him to think that he was obsessed.

There was something about Dean Winchester that made Castiel fall for him within a matter of days. He had forgotten himself nearly completely. And then it suddenly made sense. People saying that they fall in love, they don’t rise into it. Castiel stumbled and fell and landed right there in Dean’s arms where he had felt so safe.

And he wanted to understand him, wanted Dean to trust him like Castiel trusted Dean. It was rare that Cas felt so sure about trusting someone. But with Dean he just knew that he would never be lied to, or so he thought. But if you believe in something enough maybe it will become real eventually.

Despite his nightmares and scars Dean was by his side, not pushing to talk, but gently holding him trough it. And he wondered, for the first time, if maybe he made Dean feel like he wasn’t able to be himself around Castiel.

They always talked about Castiel, his problems, and his life. And every time Castiel tried to get Dean to talk about himself, the other boy changed the topic to something vague and irrelevant.

And then Castiel promised himself something: He would make Dean Winchester feel loved. He would make him feel safe and at home, no matter at what cost or how long it will take him. He was ready to plunge into this with all he got, to give himself up to save Dean.

Never had Castiel felt this kind of urge to understand someone, to get to the bottom of another one's self. He needed to understand Dean more than he was able to understand himself. Because deep down Castiel knew that there was something big, something important, that Dean wasn’t telling him.

**At some dirty bus stop, Tuesday night, 2015**

Dean shivered, he wore the same dirty clothes he had worn when he left the motel room. Everything he had packed was gone. He had left his bag inside the Impala and John had simply left. The only reason he had checked in with Dean over text was to ask what name he had given the doctors. Of course he had used one of his fake IDs that stated his age as 21. It bought him a few days until the nurses got uncomfortable around him, signaling to Dean that they probably knew something was fishy by now.

He had left before the police could show up, like always when he got into any kind of situation like this. To others such a skill would’ve been sad but Dean felt weirdly proud about himself.

To his luck the cut wasn’t deep, he had become a few stitches where it was the deepest but it could mostly heal by itself. He looked at his phone again, only a few percents remaining. He had called Bobby the second he was sure nobody was following him.

He despised every second the call lasted. Of course, Bobby was understanding, calm, and immediately started driving, but Dean felt the underlying rage. He knew Bobby was going to rant about his father, condemn his actions, and paint him in a bad light.

Dean hadn’t yet thought about what had happened or how he felt about it. He was just not sure if he could agree with Bobby now or not, or if he should defend John further. There was nothing left in him that could help him decide on aside. Not now anyway.

He just wanted a long, silent car drive, with some good music playing and a bottle of cold water. Maybe a blanket and someone next to him that didn’t have that look on his face.

And he was actively ignoring the only person who hadn’t looked at him with pity yet. He didn’t know what to text Castiel. He could not keep this lie up. Obviously he would not lose one word about the supernatural but he felt the urge to tell Castiel about John. He wanted to just lie down with him, feel his calm heartbeat and soft skin. Dean just needed Castiel to be there for him and the mere thought of his comforting voice brought tears into his eyes.

And he looked down at his hands, his palm scraped open from falling into the dirt. He washed away his tears and inhaled deeply, watching the road. He had been waiting for hours and any minute now he should see the headlights of that old truck showing up on the horizon. Like a light to freedom.

Dean thought, he should at least text Sam now. But he knew Bobby already did that, and Dean wasn’t ready to answer any questions yet. He just never wanted to think about this night again. And he had to lie to the only person he wanted to share this with.

All his thoughts were washed away when finally bright lights appeared on the horizon. Dean prayed it wasn’t just another passer-by and for once his prayers were heard. The old truck slowed down and Dean saw Bobby sitting behind the wheel.

The old man smiled softly “Get in.” He grunted and only then Dean noticed he hadn’t moved. And Bobby’s voice just pierced through his body. With weak feet he dragged himself to the passenger seat. When the car door fell shut something clicked inside his brain.

The familiar smell of the car, Bobby’s comforting look, and the oversized, freshly washed sweatshirt that laid on the backseat. It all overcame him and tears just started streaming down his face. He gasped for air through his sobs and whimpers.

He hadn’t felt this safe in nearly a week and now it was finally over. Dean didn’t even register Bobby’s hand on his back, firmly stroking up and down. He didn’t hear his comforting words. He just sat there; crying, finally allowing himself to show his emotions to someone, finally realizing that it wasn’t his fault.

The drive was exactly how he hoped it would be. Bobby didn’t lose one word about John, even though he wanted to. Led Zeppelin played on the radio and the car heater was turned half the way up. He had changed into the big hoodie and carefully scooted down, looking outside.

Tears were still brimming in his eyes, and his head hurt as if all his thoughts kept pressing against its walls. Yet still, Dean had fallen asleep within moments.

He woke up to yet another Led Zepplin song quietly playing on the radio. A rugged, old blanket covered him, and when he moved he felt his body aching, and the stitches on his belly itching. The sun was merely rising and the landscape was dunked in a washed-out grayish-blue. Clouds hung over the horizon and Dean thought about how fitting it was.

“Rise and shine.” Bobby looked over to him for a brief second. “How are you feeling?”

Dean grunted sitting up, moving the blanket down a bit. “Better. Still shit.” Bobby just nodded, his breaths were heavy as he was contemplating what to say next. And by now Dean wasn’t even sure what he wanted him to say. Did he want him to ask what had happened? There was the underlying urge to tell someone, just anyone, what was going on inside of him. But on the other hand, he wished Bobby would never lose a word about this night.

“We’ll be at my place soon. You can take a bath and I’ll look at the stitches, yes? You can stay for a few days, I’ll talk to your school.”

Dean fumbled with his thumbs. “Thanks, Bobby.” His eyes fell on his phone that still charged through the car battery. “But could you maybe drive me directly to Sam? I mean after that bath maybe.” He chuckled. “I don’t want to miss school any more than I already have.”

The older hunter looked at him with risen brows. “You don’t want to miss school? What happened to you?” He laughed. “But sure, I can do that. Whatever you want.”

Dean nodded and his gaze wandered out the window again. By now the scenery outside felt more familiar and he was sure they were close to Bobby’s house. “If you want to talk about how this happened, Dean—“

“I know.” The boy interrupted a little too fast and he felt bad for his harsh tone. In a softer voice he added. “I know, Bobby, I want to tell you. I will tell you. There’s just not much to say.”

The car made a turn and Dean saw the familiar town sign. “But there is something to say?”

 _Too much_ , Dean thought. “A hunt gone bad. One of the angels scraped me with his blade. It’s no one’s fault.” And Dean could nearly hear Bobby’s teeth scraping over each other, holding back whatever it was that he actually wanted to say.

“Mhm,” He just grunted. “And then John brought you to a hospital?” The car slowed down as they backed into the parking space in front of Bobby’s house. Dean looked down ashamed, fumbling with his fingers. He thought about lying, he thought about just saying yes, but that would be unfair to Bobby. He looked up with a deep sigh, and he already damned the sheer of tears forming in front of his eyes like a curtain.

He blinked them away and cleared his throat. “No.” He admitted silently. “No, uh, I called 911. Dad was occupied with the angel. He captured one, you know.” And Dean smiled at that. Maybe, just maybe, the hunt wasn’t for nothing. John was able to find out more about what was going on now.

“He was...occupied?”

“Yes,” Dean answered sharply, clenching his jaw. “I know you don’t like him, Bobby. But not everything is his fucking fault.” Bobby flinched and Dean could hear the air sharply pulling into his lungs. All the anger washed out of his body as the old man silently unplugged his seat belt.

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispered. “Bobby, I’m sorry. It’s just... this wasn’t his fault, it really wasn’t. I wasn’t quick enough, that’s all. John saved me when that angel was about to kill me.”

With tired eyes and a fallen face Bobby looked over at Dean. He had heard this speech too many times to fight the way Dean was thinking about his father. “Did you have an angel blade at least?”

“No.”

Bobby nodded knowingly, he felt the rage in the pit of his stomach, wanting to crawl up his throat. Holding his anger down was the hardest thing to do, and he wasn’t even sure if it was the right thing to do. “Let’s get inside. Go upstairs to take a shower, there are fresh clothes in your room, like always. I’ll make you some breakfast and then we can take off again.”

**Cas**

_Will you come to school today?_

_I miss you :(_

**Dean**

_I miss you too, Cas, more than anything right now_

_I’ll maybe miss the first two periods but I’ll be there :)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentioned Abuse, Manipulation


	21. Promises broken and made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are three stages, first not loving and not being loved, second loving and not being loved (the case in question), third loving, and being loved.
> 
> I’d say that the second stage is better than the first, but the third! That’s it.
> 
> \- Vincent Van Gogh

**_CHAPTER EIGHTEEN_ **

**_Promises broken and made_ **

_14th October 1881_

Dear Adam,

if even that is your name.

You fled my cabin in such a hurry I keep wondering what had happened. You might have been acting another kind of displaced these past weeks, yet I would have never imagined you leaving me.

These are terrible times. Having you by my side has been a wonderful experience. My sweet, dear stranger, who stole this heart of mine. I hope you are still taking care of it now.

You came back two days ago, confused. I took you in, again, how could I not? The neighbors keep thinking we are friends, I suppose they are not wrong but they miss the details. I have sketched them a lot recently, the days appear to be rather quiet. I hope they don’t get bored and decide to start rumoring.

I wanted to hold you gently, my dear. Your cheeks were scraped and burned. But you looked so confused at my touch, it deeply hurt my soul.

When I told you that I had fallen for you, you answered “past and future are all one to me. I can not return your feelings.”

And you seemed to have forgotten what love is. I looked into your eyes, your soul and there was someone else looking back at me. Not violent or threatening, just different.

So I asked, why you couldn’t love me back. I feared that you might have been afraid of what the elders would say, or if they would banish us, avoiding any kind of scandal.

You only told me you were sorry for not feeling anything. I said, but if you feel nothing then how can you feel sorry?

You contemplated for a while and restated “I am sorry for I do not know these feelings.”

At the time I did not know how to respond.

Yet by now, I understand that I mean to leave no stone unturned in my endeavors to bring me closer to you, and I declare that

I shall love you so long

That in the end, you’ll love me too.

The more you disappear, the more you appear.

My sweet Adam, I always loved your name, your eyes, your hair. I don’t know what made you fell out of love with me so quickly but I promise you, you will not have to go this path of your life alone.

If you can please allow me back into your life, my love. Let me guide trough love.

There are three stages, first not loving and not being loved, second loving and not being loved (the case in question), third loving, and being loved.

I’d say that the second stage is better than the first, but the third! That’s it.

When you return and find this.

Let me know, how you are feeling. I’ll be here waiting for your soul.

_Your dearest,_

_Vincent_

_11th November 1881_

Dear Vincent,

I am at a loss of words. My days with you are the dearest to my heart, I have finally come to understand. Sadly, you were out today, painting once again, I suppose. So I left you a note because again I have to run.

In my time with you, my dearest, I have regained lost trust. In myself and in the world. What you have shown me, no other ever could.

Heaven is a brutal place but being here on Earth with you is just fine. I do not want to leave you. My heart aches at our departure. But if I stay longer than I already have it will set you in great danger.

You taught me to accept having feelings, I am sorry I have ever doubted that. You made me see that even I can love so dearly, like a human, frankly, I feel human when I am with you.

Always, I will carry your heart safely. Until the end of time I will never forget you, always hold you close to me, as if your heart and mind were mines.

If I ever confused you, I am sorry. It is a strange time for me, as well. I never meant you any harm, my love. I only ever want you to be happy and free and in the clouds like a bird.

Even with Heaven in shambles I would make sure for you to get in. Never will I willingly let you suffer.

I will be back, stranger. I’ll leave you here my heart, my soul, and mind. Take care of these, since you are the one who formed them all.

Vincent, love, without you I would have never known myself. I will never let you be forgotten.

But now I have to depart, I wish I could have kissed you goodbye. There are things I am forced to partake in. But with my new found self, that I have just come to accept, I shall be fine in battle.

Take care of your body, I will take care of your soul.

I’ll miss you greatly for the time I’m gone.

But I’ll be back, forever loving you.

_Your dearest,_

_Castiel (one day I will explain)_

**Highschool, Tuesday morning 2015**

Castiel smiled at the text messages. Even just these few days of departure made it very clear to him, that Dean was someone he wanted by his side. As more than just a friend. And the tingling feeling in his stomach that he got every time he saw him, every time he even just got a text message, was enough to know that he needed to ask Dean out.

But he wanted it to be special, a nice date night, a bunch of roses and good music. Simply something romantic. And at the end of it he was going to ask Dean out, officially.

“What are you looking at?” Charlie nudged him under the table, trying to get a peek at his phone.

Quickly, Castiel closed the chat and fumbled to put his phone away without the teacher noticing. He pushed Charlie away “Nothing,” he whispered with his eyes fixated on the teacher.

“Tell me.”

“Later.”

“Now.” The teacher cleared his throat, glaring at the both of them. Silently Charlie scooted back to the middle of her chair, looking forward to the board. Though the second he turned around again, she nudged Castel again. “Tell me.”

“Jesus, fine.” Cas scooted forward, taking a pencil in his hand, imitating writing emotions. Charlie did the same so it was easier to hear. “Dean just texted me he’ll get to school today.”

“Aw, that made you smile?” Charlie broke their act of pretending to study and looked at Castiel with deer-eyes. The teacher scoffed again and she looked back at her paper.

“Yes,” Castiel whispered even quieter. “I want to ask him on a date.“

„Adorable.“

„Shut up.“

Finally Castiel could convince Charlie that he would tell her everything, if she would just wait for the lunch break. After another scolding or two from the teacher‘s side she unwillingly agreed to stay quiet.

Once they sat down at their table she just burst out with questions. Castiel came to the sudden realization that he was lucky to have her. Lucky to have someone by his side who was there for every step he took since he was little and never abandoned him even once. He was lucky she cared so much about his life that it excited her.

It made him smile, just listening to her talking like a waterfall. He patiently waited for her to finish all her thoughts before he laughed. „Christ, Charlie. I don‘t even know what to answer first.“

She blinked a few times as if she just entered reality again, and then sank down on her chair. „Yeah, I forgot half of what I said, too.“

Castiel tried to suppress his laugh as he nodded knowingly like an old professor but the corners of his mouth twitched until he eventually burst out. Charlie kicked him under the table and gasped. „Fuck you. Anyway, now tell me what you have planned.“

„Nothing just yet, to be honest. First, he has to say yes anyway—“

„Which he obviously will because the guy is head over heels for you and won‘t stop talking about you even when he‘s at work.“

Subconsciously Cas tilted his head and blinked a few times. He was caught off guard by that remark but smiled, knowing that Dean talked about him. He tried to cover up his surprise and continued his sentence as he had planned.

„Secondly, I don‘t want it to be too sappy, you know. I don‘t think he‘s into that. But it should be special.“

Charlie’s grin widened as she looked behind Castiel. “What?” The boy asked but as an answer her grind only grew in size. Castiel groaned “You’re insufferable today. I just want Dean to like it.”

Out of nowhere two strong hands grabbed his shoulders from behind and Castiel nearly fell off his chair. Charlie burst out in laughter when Dean slowly lowered his head to Castiel’s shoulder. “Want me to like what?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, dude. You scared the shit out of me.”

Dean smiled, giving Castiel a quick peck on the cheek before sitting down beside him. Their legs touched under the table and Dean’s hands found their way to Castiel’s side, pulling him closer. “I didn’t think you’d speak like that of Jesus.” Dean laughed making Castiel roll his eyes, especially because every time he did the boy couldn’t hold back his smile. “Hello, Charlie. How is everything?”

She smiled at them a little while longer before putting her attention back to the food in front of her. “Oh, same as usual. You didn’t really miss anything. Yesterday someone nearly blew up the Chemistry lab but that’s pretty much the most interesting thing that has happened.”

“How was your trip?”Cas asked, bumping into Dean’s side with a smile on his lips. The hunter’s eyes wandered into the air, pursing his lips like he didn’t know what to say. When in reality he had laid every word out, perfectly calculated. “My Dad’s campaign is going fine actually. Made a lot of improvement in that town.” He smiled, something that was harder for him than normal.

“Well, that’s nice,” Charlie remarked, not noticing Castiel’s furrowed eyebrows. “So, when he’s done with this area you will just move on?”

Castiel’s eyes snapped at her and Dean felt him tighten up between his arms. Trying to be of reassurance Dean rocked their bodies from left to right, pressing Castiel as close to him as possible without Charlie feeling uncomfortable. “Well, it’s going to take a few months. Who knows how things are going to play out.”

Trying to change the topic he said “Anyway, tell me what you want me to like.” He looked at Castiel with high hopes, whose eyes switched to Charlie. And without a further word the girl took her food and stood up. Her mouth still stuffed with a sandwich she muffled “Still have to catch up with Jo.”

Dean let go of Castiel’s side and swung one of his legs above the bench, directly facing the boy now. “So?” One of his eyebrows rose up by itself. Castiel sighed, laying down his fork and turning towards Dean. He took the hunter’s hands into his and he was about to explain when he felt the rough skin on his. Dean*s hands had never been soft but they were unusually stiff and dry.

The insides of his palms were scraped. Without saying another word he gently flipped Dean’s hands over. He didn’t fight back or complained. Maybe it was because of fear or maybe it was because his brain was occupied pumping blood to his racing heart instead of his brain.

Either way Castiel’s soft fingertips lingered on his skin like a rose petal floating on lava. He already felt the heat coming from Dean’s knuckles and his suspicions were only confirmed when he finally flipped the rough hands: Revealing bruised and bloody knuckles.

The angel looked at Dean, his eyebrows softly lowered above his eyes. He saw the hunter’s teeth-gritting together, his jaw working and his gaze fixated on their hands. “What happened?” He whispered, gently brushing over the sore surface of Dean’s hands.

The hunter gulped but kept it together, raising his gaze to meet Castiel’s. “I wanna tell you, but just not here.” Castiel nodded, still brushing over his hands. And Dean had missed his gentle touch. He had missed his soft hands and gentle voice, the tingling in his stomach whenever they touched. “Now what did you want to tell me?”

“Remember how we said that when you come back I’ll visit your place? I kinda thought that maybe we could do like a date night kind of thing. If you’re up to that of course.” Castiel had started playing with Dean’s fingers, instead of his own, not looking Dean in the eyes as he talked.

The other boy just laughed, untangling his hands from Castiel’s and holding them instead. “Are you, Castiel Novak, asking me out on a date?”

Cas bopped his head around, fluttering like a chicken before he looked up at Dean. He rolled his eyes, smiled, and mumbled “Yes, asshole. Are you saying yes?”

“Of course I am, asshole. Does Friday work for you? I have to catch up with Sammy and then kick him out to his girlfriend’s.”

“Friday is perfect. I will arrange everything.” Castiel smiled, putting a hand on Dean’s cheek and slowly drawing him in for a kiss. “When would you like to talk about your thing?”

Dean thought for a moment, clearing his throat. “I’m not sure yet. Can that be like a spontaneous thing?”

Cas nodded. “I can’t sleep anyway, so just, call me whenever you need to.”


	22. Pleading

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me so long to update and I hope everyone is still reading this :)

_**CHAPTER NINTEEN** _

_**Pleading** _

Sam's brother respected no other man like he respected their father. When Dean told stories about John, back when Sam was much younger, maybe eight or nine, Sam would think that their father was a superhero.

A few years later he realized that that was not the case. He wanted a different life, a safer one, for both him and Dean. But John needed them to play his soldiers. Dean always followed suit, even when Sam wanted to rebel. And at first, it was frustrating to Sam. Even though Dean would take his side in arguments his older brother would always come to his bed the night after and tell him “He means well, we need to do this. Who else would? He’s a good man.”. Always defending their father, and always making excuses on his behalf.

Until one day, when Sam laid in bed close to crying himself to sleep, and Dean sat down on his side once more. He was visibly tired, his chest moved in weird ways as he breathed. His older brother continued to make excuses and at one point said “He’s a good man” again. Then there was silence and the bedsheets shifted as Sam turned around to look Dean in the eyes.

“What about being a good father, Dean? It’s always about the world or the greater good. What about us?”

Sometimes the needle on a vinyl player jumps and the song breaks for a second until it moves on normally. In that second Dean tilted his head and blinked, before shaking his head. For that second Sam thought that finally, his brother had realized something before he turned towards him and said “Sam-“ in the same voice he always used when trying to explain John’s actions.

Sam scoffed and turned back, falling asleep angry.

Another few years later he realized that there was something more to Dean always defending John. He realized that his brother was trained to do it, programmed nearly. He couldn’t help it, as if it was automated. And that’s when Sam fully stopped to try and talk to Dean about their dad. Because there was no use to it, he blindly admired the man. He wasn’t sure if Dean loved their father, but he never asked.

The quietly sworn agreement to keep their silence didn’t stop Sam from seeing his brother in pain. The older he grew the more he realized how to hurt Dean was. That didn’t magically disappear just because they didn’t talk about it. He heard them argue about him, he heard how Dean always had his side. And he saw the occasional bruises.

But what he had never noticed were the three serious hospital visits over the years. Not until Dean had told him. Sitting across the dinner table on the old, creaky chair, that finally should just break under the weight of a wind breeze.

Maybe it had never been this bad or maybe he just noticed it more after spending the past days with Eileen and her family. But Dean looked sick, sitting there with bags under his eyes and grayish skin that barely held on to his jawbones. Sam put down his fork, next to the cardboard bowl of microwave lasagna, it just slipped out of his hand.

And he stared blankly at his brother waiting for any reaction, any follow-up, but there was none. So he gulped down the lumps in his throat and uttered “You were in the hospital?”

Dean nodded, his eyes were watery but Sam wasn’t sure if he was maybe just tired. “Why?” He followed up. And Dean shook his head “Don't go there.”

“What?” It shot out of Sam. “Don’t go where? I just want to know what happened.”

Dean sighed and his shoulders sank down. The hoodie he was wearing was twice his size and it nearly swallowed him whole, making him seem even smaller than he was. “Just a hunt that went wrong. Nothing to worry about, I just wanted you to know that’s where I was. Don’t think I’d leave you for days like that just for nothing.”

“I know you wouldn’t do that, you’re not Dad.”

Dean looked away, his jaw working. Sam continued. “But you never tell me this. What’s different this time?”

His brother shrugged. “Same as always.”

“Just worse?” No answer. “Can you tell me what you were hunting?”

“Werewolf pack in the area.” Dean lied.”One scraped me.”

Sam furrowed his brows. “A scrape got you in the hospital? Why didn’t Dad just patch you up?”

“He was occupied, interrogating, uh, one of them for more information on the, ehm, on the pack. So I just called 911.”

“For a scrape?”

“Safety first,” Dean smirked, and Sam knew trough the look on his eyes that there was no reason to try and start a serious conversation with him now. His brother was sarcastic, closed off, and mostly confused.

“Sure, cause this family puts so much value on safety. By the way,” he started to dig into his food again. “Why couldn’t I come?”

“I thought you didn’t like hunting?”

“Well, I don’t. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to be there with you, you know. The more hunters, the easier the hunt, right?”

Dean contemplated for a second, then huffed “I don’t know why Dad didn’t want you there. Probably protecting you.” And there it was again, the praise that had nothing to back it up. It was a talent, really, being able to turn everything around to someone’s favor. “Maybe next time again.”

“Sure, when he’s done protecting us, I’ll finally be treated as a valuable part of this ‘team’, get it.” He put the word team in air-quotes, already regretting what he said since he knew exactly what kind of conversation this would start again.

**Wednesday night**

The old chair creaked and with one final swing, it shattered against the thin walls. One of its wooden legs rolled across the floor, taunting, as Dean panted heavily. He had screamed at the top of his lungs before he froze, he froze for only a mere second and now his brain had entered a different mode. One that was driven by urgency and anger.

Without another word he ended the call and started collecting his things. Shoes, jacket, sports bag, gun. When he entered the streets he just started running and he reached the convent within ten minutes. It stood in the darkness, rising from the dirt as if it had evil intent. The scene laid quite before him as he rushed to the door. The metals in his bag hit each other as he ran, it was the only sound cutting through a cold summer night, that was too quiet anyway.

Jody opened the door, stammering and already awaiting him. She tried to catch her thoughts but Dean was faster. “Where is he?”, he asked and got pointed into a new direction. He followed the Mother towards a room with high walls where the limp, ash-like body of Christ hang. There was no vibrance in his dark skin, no glow, or hope. And in order of the prayer room laid another ash-like figure.

And back Dean’s mind went, back into his state of survival that his father had forced him to obtain. He sprinted towards Sam, his little brother laying there, panting heavily. Dean’s jeans scraped open as he slid across the floor and the heat burned his skin underneath the fabric.

Jody was a few steps behind him as she closes the door, quietly so there would remain only three inside this room. Dean said nothing as Sam begged him for forgiveness. The injury was obvious; three deep slashes across his upper arm, a wolf had seen easy prey.

The younger brother winced as Dean re-did the bandage the Mother Superior had already put on him. As he did all he could at that point he stood up and drew his gun from behind his back. Jody looked worried but relaxed her muscles ever so slightly when he realized there was no preventing it. Instead of fight hin, she pointed towards the small woods behind the convent.

Dean nodded with the loaded gun in his grasp. Sam tried to make his brother give up the hunt but Dean only asked him questions about the werewolf’s whereabouts or how many there were. Sam saw the burning passion in his eyes, that something that appeared when Dean went hunting.

Sam explained that there were only two of them, that he had seen, near the lake that rushed so loud it had distracted Sam. It had been pure luck that the convent stood so close, and also pure luck that Sam had found the two wolfs before they could come for Jody. To Sam it seemed like an ordinary case of self-justice: Bobby had killed some of their family back when they first attacked the convent and in their book now was the time for revenge. And so it stood in Dean’s book as well.

He ignored the fleeting pleads of his younger brother and rushed outside into the back yard, looking around the area and for anything that moved. With his gun drawn he moved further towards the forested area behind the building and the street lights died out more and more.

He was concentrated, more than he had ever been before. That’s why he fired two billets as one of them tried his best to jump Dean. Not even minutes after the second one jumped out behind the bush and within the blink of an eye, he fell to the ground.

The job was done quickly, the werewolves weren’t leading a structured attack. With a clearer mind, he dragged each of their bodies into the convent’s back yard, their claws and teeth showing the vicious, uncontrollable animal inside. And after the second body was dragged into the yard as if he was a cat bringing offerings to his family, he sweat and panted.

His anger was gone and he breathed deeply for a minute before rushing back into the convent to check up on his little brother. What Dean had not seen was the boy standing behind his bedroom window, watching as the man he kissed only hours before had blood splashed across his face. For half an hour or more Castiel watched as Dean dragged the limp, human-like bodies into his yard and he felt empty and confused. It rustled something that lived under his skin, shook something awake only a little bit more.

And then he decided to go downstairs.


End file.
